Revolution No. 9

Waiting on a bus a few weeks ago in a part of town that’s normally only soundtracked by traffic static and the squawks from delinquent seagulls, the most fantastic thing happened.

An hour or so before its doors were opened, the Belsonic festival (pitched up, as has now become a merry tradition, on the front steps of the Custom House) was preparing for another of its big nights. Before that, however, one of the featured bands was running through a quick last-minute sound-check.
Perhaps the greatest single moment in Northern Irish music this year is the magnificent kettle-drum rumble that signals the onset of Cashier No. 9’s ‘Gold Star’.
And there it was, in all its Spector-does-Lee Mavers glory, soaring nonchalantly above the rush hour. The band’s debut album, To The Death Of Fun, has proven incredible company since its release. So, what a treat to have an unexpected – surround sound – taster while waiting on the number 10 bus.

Danny Todd spent a decade knocking those songs into shape, so news that he has the follow-up almost ready to go suggests that, like the proverbial, you wait years for a Cashier No. 9 album, and suddenly two turn up in quick succession.
Is that The Lowly Knights we hear on a TV ad? Well ‘Devotion’ is such a one-off wonder, it certainly seems so. Some of the heat seems to have been taken out of the whole ad/sell-out issue over recent times. Today’s central irony – that while music has never been more prevalent, it’s also never been more difficult for a musician to get heard – has seen people turn down avenues they maybe would previously have scurried to avoid. ‘Freshly Fallen Snow’ by The Holy Innocents was picked up in a similar fashion in the spring. These are two amazing songs we’re talking about. Two songs that were in danger of remaining unheard beyond a selective fanbase – but which have now gone nationwide.
The old indie purist in me may grumble, but it’s a fierce climate out there and the pragmatist wonders whether, for bands operating under restricted means, it really does any harm.

Judging by the posters pasted up around various coffee shops and newsagents, there’s an interesting double header too at No Alibis bookstore, where instrumentalist Ruby Colley (who has practically taken up residence in the place) will be taking to the stage, supported by Cat Malojian’s Stevie Scullion. Stevie’s not usually one for the solo slots, but he’s taken the night off from sessions for the band’s long-awaited third album to pop by. It’s an interesting, but not unexpected, pairing. These are musicians whose recorded output (neo-classical violinist; country-folk balladeer) might hang out on different sides of the equator, but there is an appetite for experimentation and stylistic handbrake turns that the pair share in common. They’re sharing a bill at the moment – it wouldn’t be a bad idea to find them sharing studio space in the future.

And then who do we bump into but Charley Mooney, the biblically bearded frontman from Desert Hearts. Regular long-term visitors to this patch will know there are few bands Hit The North has cheered on louder over the years. Reassuringly, a recent re-introduction to their two albums, Let’s Get Worse and Hotsy Totsy Nagasaki, finds them every bit as brittle, mysterious and magnificent as ever. But, aside from the odd random live appearance, subsequent progress has been intermittent and halting, and (inevitably) fans couldn’t help but fear the worst. Charley, though, is in chipper form. And news is good. The band have regrouped, refocused and, under the supervision of Ben McAuley, are currently working on a host of new material.
We all know that real music hibernates in the summer. Autumn is coming, though, and perhaps an interesting re-birth is about to take place.