Hot Press/Bacardi Unplugged

Hot Press/Bacardi Unplugged (Vagabonds, Salthill)

TO BE HONEST, I’m usually quite wary of band competitions and all the whinging, whining and shattered egos that often pass in their wake. Generally the bands are relatively new to the live scene and the pressure of having to outplay three or four other groups within the strict confines of a brief twenty minute set can bring out the worst in a band personality-wise as easily as it can bring out the best musically.

The first time I judged one I wound up being attacked on my way home by a disgruntled heavy metal guitarist who felt quite strongly about not winning and held me personally responsible for the decision (which, in fact I was, but nowadays he just blames me for the fact that he’ll never be able to father children). Fortunately the third regional heat of the Hot Press/Bacardi Unplugged competition proved to be a far more civilised affair with not a single punch thrown when the results were announced. The music wasn’t bad either.

The Vincent Cross Band were first on and put all the creative energy that they hadn’t expended on thinking up a decent name for themselves into a tight melodic set fusing American C&W sounds with some wilder Planxty-ish riffs. A four piece from Galway, their rather unique line-up included Barry Wallace from Toasted Heretic on bass and the mandolin player from well respected local trad band Gan Ainm on, erm, mandolin. Vincent Cross himself sounded like a young Johnny Cash, particularly on numbers like the quirky ‘Waiting At The Bus Stop Of My Life’. At other times they sounded a little like the Mary Janes gone country. Overall an interesting enough set but not quite interesting enough for them to win.

Speaking of same, Second Nature from Dublin weren’t quite interesting enough to even keep my attention. I rolled thirteen spliffs under my table during their set and they played as though they’d smoked a lot more before going onstage. (Not that they had, of course, your honour.) I see from my notebook that I scribbled the words “singer impossible to hear, looks quite bored” at some point during their set, and also the expression “touch wood” which is either the name of one of their songs or the only advice I could think of giving them. In fairness they were quite melodic and things picked up ever so slightly when they switched vocals but overall, em . . . not for me thanks.

In sharp contrast Voice Of Cheese (another rather silly name) provoked some genuine enthusiasm from both the crowd and the judging panel. A Galway band who’ve only been together for about four months, they played a set that positively sparkled with potential. The vocals alternated between a girl singer and the guitarist (P. J. Harvey and Tom Verlaine soundalikes respectively) and with numbers like ‘Vacant Place’ and ‘Dirty Boots’ they assured themselves a better than average chance of winning. I can’t wait for a chance to hear them play the same set electrically. Oh, a minor and incidental point but their drummer wore a shirt and tie for the occasion which I thought was pretty cool in a “too naff to actually be naff” kinda way.

Next band up were also from Galway. Sprog and I are old sparring partners at this stage. They’ve been playing together under various monikers for the last few years now and having seen them gig umpteen times I can honestly say I never liked them once. But that’s just me. It’s not that they’re particularly bad (in fact, musically they’re particularly good) but they tend to concentrate on making their gigs as flashy as possible rather than simply letting themselves go and putting a bit of soul into their sets. Songs like ‘Frantic’ and ‘Shadows’ are tuneful, catch – and dare I say it – bland enough to slot in perfectly on daytime radio and there’s no doubting that frontman Tom Pyne has a superb voice but, unfortunately, they just didn’t do it for me. However, there were nine of us on the judging panel and when all the votes were cast, Sprog came a very close second at the end of the night.

The Room (from Dublin) were the last band to play and while their set was a bit contrived, it also showed a lot of potential. Comprising just two guitarists and a vocalist who sang his Morrissey-esque lyrics in the same deadpan fashion Donal Dineen employs to present ‘No Disco’, their set either worked for you or it didn’t. It worked for me but most of the other judges weren’t quite as impressed. That’s the way it goes at band competitions.

Voice Of Cheese won in the end. We all cheered. Nobody tried to hit me. I was relieved. This is Olaf T. I’m outta here. Told ya, ye shoulda killed me last year.

• Olaf Tyaransen