NOVEMBER REIGN

A couple of months ago I saw a mind-bending gig by an American group called Neurosis. I’m reminded of it when I listen to Raw Novembre’s debut album Disturbed. As it happens, Neurosis gave one of the most fearsome and disturbing performances I have ever heard.

They delivered apocalypse. They shafted my guts with a gaggling electrical noise that – with warning stamped all over it – surged and heaved from every side. It stomped about and it had one brutal, stripped message: ‘There is no fucking future for the human race!’ Not as we know it anyhow. (They did admit later that a few would survive, that small tribes would be left to roam the debris of civilisation.)

Raw Novembre are not as explicit in their predictions of doom as Neurosis. However, they are disturbed about the foul substances that have risen to the surface and are spreading. Like Neurosis, they themselves have a positive ‘can do/will do’ attitude. But their positivism is in the context of the negative. It is a reaction to the cesspit in which we are submerged, a way of wading through it.

The two brothers in the band, vocalist Martin and guitarist Kevin Kelly are vegetarians. Their song ‘All The Animals’ finishes with the lines, “All the animals/Look to the sky/And with their eyes ask/Why do we have to die?/And you gotta hear/And you gotta hear.”

“I’m a vegetarian. Kelvyn’s [bass player] not,” Martin explains. “Big deal. It’s a personal decision. But we’re not forcing these songs down people’s throats, saying you do this, you do that. It’s just an opinion. It’s basically the music which we want people to get into. If we can turn people onto vegetarianism, then that’s up to themselves. If we can, great.

The energy of change is invested in Raw Novembre’s music. “When we play live we like to confront people,” Martin explains. “‘Cause they can’t talk when we’re playing. ‘Cause it’s so loud,” Kevin adds. “But it’s not just noise,” Martin enthuses, “saying, hey, we’re going to annoy you. The lyrics are important.”

Which they are. Every track on Disturbed has something to say. The lyrics are either making some point or else making some attempt to understand the life the character lives. The picture is fairly black; the caption on the back of the album stating: “Repulsive and grotesque, nothing has changed in quite a while.” But as is often the case for bands who make music like this, the individual members do not take life lying down.

“It’s this whole scenario,” Kevin explains. “Can you sweep things under the carpet? Some people can. But really when you live a life and go and examine yourself and look deep down, these are the things that are affecting you. I think, personally, to go through life and not confront these issues, then you’re not confronting yourself. But I’m actually quite positive. I believe in people on the ground, more than in statistics and things like that. You know, people can change things. A lot of people say music can’t change things, but we grew up with music and it gave us confidence and it makes us do things and change things.”

Raw Novembre are from – and are based in – Mullingar. It hasn’t been an easy ride. They have freaked out the locals a bit, left some small minds in a huff, and have been studiously ignored when possible. “The local festival didn’t want us until we’d charted,” bassist Kelvyn Stanley recounts. “Then the phone rang for us. And we had asked something like three months previous, and they said, no, we’ve all the bands booked. Which is bullshit ‘cause it’s only a small festival.”

However, overall they’re quite happy to operate from and on the heart of the Midlands, dismissing the idea of moving to the wonderful innovative and radical metropolis of Dublin to ‘make it.’ “We don’t want to play safe music, you know,” Martin readily admits. “We’ve played venues all over the country, in pokey places, pubs, you know. And the owners are going, what’s this! But at the same time it’s not true to say that outside of Dublin all the venue owners are going to say, ‘Oh be God, what’s that, lad? Oh, I’ll have to get rid of him’. You know what I mean? There’s some great places. Like in Fermoy, which is a small town. There’s a venue there and the owner he doesn’t mind. Like in Ballybofey, Mullingar, Athlone, Tralee, Tullamore…”

Which is true. Raw Novembre (they got the ‘Raw’ from Iggy’s Raw Power, but they can’t remember where exactly they got the ‘Novembre’ bit from), are proving that the best of attitudes have a tendency of coming from the most unexpected places. They’re hard-working, patient and they believe in themselves and in rock ‘n’ roll.

“Like, a lot of people are trying to say that rock music is dead,” Kevin states. “I feel like that sometimes. I’m listening to music and I’m saying, God, is there anything new going to come? But every single year something new comes and just blows me away. There’s always a band to come along. OK, Nirvana when they happened – you can talk about Nirvana now – but when they actually happened it was great for music. Because that’s what rock is; it’s there to shake the foundations. It’s not safe. “

Raw Novembre make music which is an attack on apathy. They want to entertain but they’re not going to hide the facts they see around them. They’ve produced a vibrant and exciting album in Disturbed, and they already have another album’s worth of material ready to go. And they intend to be around for as long as it takes to make their mark. As Kevin puts it, “We know what we want out of music. And we love playing music. There’s nothing else more important to us.”

His brother Martin nods in agreement. “We won’t change,” he says confidently. “We’ll always do what we want.”