Popical Island #1

“Galway got depressing, Balinsloe’s a tip, Athlone sucks, so does Moat, and Enfield’s gone to shit,” sings Tuam’s finest rock-diarist Brian Kelly aka So Cow. “So here we go, oh oh, to Dublin!” comes the poppy refrain.
This glorious slab of culchie-pop begins the Popical Island label’s primer of the best songs the Irish underground, or I’m guessing, any underground, has to offer. From the literate skiffle of the Lie-Ins to the wonky-soul of Tieranniesaur, to the meanderingly brilliant folk-pop of Land Rovers (who sing the amazing lyric: “Everything I do is scrutinised, scrutinised like public money or the hands of sex offenders”) this collection kicks the shit out of any other ‘roots’ compilations you may have heard recently. In fact, it’s much like when in the early nineties I first heard the much lauded Zip Up Your Boots compilation (the last time I felt patriotic about indie music). Hand on heart, I find it hard to believe that at least half these bands aren’t world famous.
And what do they have in common? What qualities have made these acts attractive to the Popical label? Well, from electronica to folk to pop, all these bands/individuals share an irreverent turn of phrase (“Teenage Pricks,” sing Yeh Deadlies repeatedly on ‘Teenage Pricks’); a respect for “the song”; a lo-fi make-do aesthetic; and, I suspect, a healthy ambivalence towards the idea of “a music career”. All in all, it’s probably the best collection of songs from bands you’ve probably never heard of you’re ever going to hear.