House of zealous lovers

You would imagine that a week before stepping onstage at Glastonbury for the biggest gig of their lives, Coleraine lads Ed Zealous would be quaking in their trainers. Either that, or the realisation that schedule-wise they’ll be competing for a crowd with the good lord Cohen would, perhaps, have rained on their parade. But no. Vocalist Steve McAvoy, guitarist, Andrew Wilson and drummer Paul Irwin appear remarkably even-tempered when we meet.

And, as it turns out, with very good reason.
The boys have made great strides in recent times, so why shouldn’t Glasto be the logical next step? As for Len – bring him on: both collectively and as individuals, this is a bunch with plenty of experience dealing with big personalities.
For example, when John McEnroe was in Belfast for an exhibition tournament last year, he popped along to one of their gigs and ended up joining them onstage for a version of ‘Foxy Lady’; Terri Hooley was so enamoured with their material he let them use his shop as a late night practice place; and best of all, when Paul Irwin was a promising schoolboy footballer, he accompanied David Healy for trials at Man Utd, where he found himself in some illustrious company.
“They’d cancelled our training session and David and I were wandering around not knowing what to do,” he smirks. “Then Alex Ferguson comes over and says there’s a five a-side game about to start and they need a couple of players to make up the numbers. Anyway, we walk round and there’s the first team waving at us to join in. It was crazy. I was on the same side as Peter Schmiechel, David May, a reserve lad, and Eric Cantona.”
Do your sums after this story and you’ll realise that we’re not dealing with a bunch of post-pubescent wunderkinds here. Ed Zealous, in various incarnations, have been an on-going concern in Belfast for the guts of a decade now. But don’t beat yourself up if you can’t remember them in their youth. The band, as it turns out, would prefer their fans to have short-term memories.
“It’s taken us ages to get where we are,” admits Steve. “When we were younger, I don’t think we’d fully worked out how to express ourselves through our songs without it looking really contrived. The chasm between what we were listening to and what we sounded like was huge.”
What helped you bridge that?
“Buckfast,” laughs Irwin.
“Yes, Buckfast and a bit of maturity,” Steve adds. “There’s a lot to be said for sitting back for a while and thinking about what you want to do. We were guilty of just playing gigs like maniacs in the early days, and not really thinking about songwriting in the right way. I used to be a full-on obsessive when it came to the songs I loved. I’d listen to them over and over again, trying to find out how they worked. But I now know it’s not about that. It’s about keeping the radar on all the time. Keeping your eyes and ears open and picking up ideas. Not chasing anything, but when something happens, making sure you nail it. When I think of a melody now, I don’t speak to anyone until I get it down.”
Any band willing to persevere for a decade would no doubt recognise the kinds of scrapes and situations Ed Zealous have found themselves in during their time in the trenches. Their story is peppered with near-misses and false-starts, and populated not only by your Cantonas and McEnroes, but also with some familiar stock villains.
“We’ve met all sorts of industry people,” Andrew sighs, “and it gets to the stage where you can spot the real pricks coming a mile off. It can be pretty demoralising. Some tell you straight out that you’re shit and then make sure you know why you’re shit and why you’ll always be shit. It’s almost worse, though, when you meet others who blow smoke up your arse, promise great things, and then are never to be heard from again. But we’ve also met some great people too who have helped us beyond the call of duty. Hopefully, we’ve got better at telling the difference.”
While we could sit here all day spraffing about the Ed Zealous back story, as they talk excitedly of their Belfast peers, and the competitively creative relationship they have with the likes of Fighting With Wire, LaFaro and ASIWYFA, it’s clear they believe the most exciting chapters are those currently being written.
“This is easily the best time to be a band in Belfast,” Steve enthuses. “It’s unrecognisable from when we first started. Everyone has management now, they’ve all bookers, press people and designers helping them out. Fighting With Wire signing with Atlantic was a real tipping point. Now you’re hearing something every week. Apparently there were 30 odd A&R people at the last General Fiasco show. It’s incredible.”
Glastonbury aside, their own contribution to the scene’s feel-good vitality is their barnstorming debut single, ‘Pretty Face’. An impressively slick alt-rock anthem-elect, the song has already been named Single of the Day on the Guardian website, and been championed on a host of local and national radio stations.
“The reaction’s been amazing,” admits Steve. “Loads of people are really getting behind it.”
But then, why should that be a surprise? After all, the seagulls only follow the trawler when they know sardines will be thrown over-board.