Villagers look to have a breakthrough hit on their hands with {Awayland}, a record of rare grace and beauty. Mainman Conor O’Brien talks about getting the nod from rock legends Paul Weller and Radiohead, and also offers his opinions on U2, Obama, Savita, Michael D. Higgins, Official Ireland and the legalisation of drugs. Oh, and reflects on spending time in a Mexican jail cell...

Forget The A-Team or The Expendables. If it’s improvisation, daring and a flagrant disregard for the safety or rock stars you’re after look no further than the Hot Press Art Dept.

Word having filtered through from our editorial meeting – in case you’re wondering, Mario Rosenstock got it spot on! – that we want to set fire to Conor J. O’Brien, our man Trevor Nolan reveals that he aced pyromania at design college.

Rejecting his improvised Coke bottle flashbomb on the grounds that first degree burns to most of his body could impair the Villager-in-chief’s ability to tour, we opt for Trev’s plan B of alcohol-soaked cotton wadding in plastic cups that due to some weirdly chemical reaction produce cold flames when ignited. Legal disclaimer: not to be attempted by anyone unwilling to undergo painful and costly skin grafts.

Luckily his PR personage is on soup and coffee fetching duties, which means we don’t have to convince her that all possible health and safety measures (a bucket of water) have been taken.

“It looks like I’m a wizard conjuring fire!” Conor enthuses as bright blue flames shoot from his hands. It turns out that he has something of a grá for the supernatural.

“I’ve been having some mind-expanding adventures in my free-time,” he reveals. “You know, focusing on more cerebral things and seeing rainbows around the moon and stuff.”

I didn’t know Conor was mates with Jim Corr.

“It sounds mad I know, but it did happen. I had an amazing night with some of my friends and we went out to Kildare tripped.”

Er, were chemicals involved?

“No chemicals, just our imaginations. We stared at the moon and all these colours appeared. I could really see myself in the Phoenix Park at two in the morning, no light pollution with a telescope.”

I could totally get into that Professor Brian Cox/Dara Ó Briain stargazing thing myself. Chemicals weren’t a factor this time, but Conor has made no secret about his partiality to the odd joint.

“I’d be in favour of legalising every drug and making it available in a safe manner,” he states. “They should just sell weed in shops and stop people having to go to the same places that they sell heroin.”

Hot Press will be reporting over the coming weeks on a high profile initiative to reignite the drugs debate in Ireland. Would Conor support the sort of legalise marijuana campaigns that have been successful recently in the States?

“Yeah, I would. There are facts and figures, which prove that the ‘war on drugs’ hasn’t worked. The school I went to was quite good in most respects, but there was one aspect of it, which was terrible. Any time they found a kid who’d started dabbling in drugs they kicked them out. I met somebody who that happened to years later when I was gigging in London and he was homeless. A guy who came from an incredibly rich family in south Dublin and who’d started using drugs after his Mum and Dad split up.

“I remember him in the school offering joints to people. Anyway, instead of helping this lost soul they expelled him, which isn’t what I’d call an education.”

In these days of rock stars being frightened to say anything lest they upset a particular demographic, it’s refreshing to find Conor tweeting his opinions on Savita Halappanavar (“Ashamed of Ireland today. Legislate for the ‘X’ case now”) and the Newtown shooting (“Hey America, stop selling guns to psychopaths!”)

“I went on the Savita march… it’s a hangover from the church’s stronghold on the country. We have to move on from our religiously tinged political system, and address what is a human rights issue. The tide is rising and common sense will prevail.

“It’s the same kind of crazy right-wing conservatism they have in the States,” he continues. “20 schoolkids are massacred and the NRA’s response is, ‘Arm the teachers. Let’s start a war between psychopaths and teachers while the kids are running around.’ There were 22,000 gunshot deaths last year in America. How can any right-minded person not want that to be tackled? There’s another aspect to this – Obama makes a big speech and cries, but he’s killing kids in Pakistan with drones. I’m sure he’s a swell guy, but foreign policy wise there’s not a lot of difference between him and Bush.”

While the O’Brien jury is out on Obama, he’s loving having Michael D. Higgins rocking in the Áras.

“He’s such a cool dude. I remember going on an anti-war march when I was at college and Michael D. was in front of me being both militant and really funny. He kept waving his fists at the Garda helicopter and shouting, ‘Aaaaaarggghhhh!’ That time he called the right-wing talk show guy a ‘wanker’ was brilliant. He’s such an articulate man and just so much better suited to the role than the other candidates for the presidency.”

The reason we’re gathered here today – apart from putting Enda, Barack and the whole sorry political lot of them to rights – is to discuss Villagers’ new {Awayland} album, which gets a perfect 5 out of 5 in this issue. Is it true that Domino had to drag him away from the mixing-desk?

“Yeah, it was quite unseemly!” Conor laughs. “Having delivered the ‘finished’ album to Domino, I asked them to recall it so I could add more music. Even when it was being mastered I had my keyboards there changing bits, which pissed the studio people off no end.”

One of the last minute additions was the backwards donkey on epic album closer, ‘Rhythm Composer’.

“It was in the ‘awesome sample file’ I add to whenever I come across something interesting. I stuck it through my sampler and made it sound really emotional.”

Surely in this case it should’ve been the ‘eeyore-some sample file’? Sorry, I’ll get my coat… In the album notes he wrote last year before any of us had got to hear his grand opus, Conor said: “I tried to write everything from the perspective of a newborn baby; given the gift of language, what would he or she say? The album is about reclaiming that sense of curiosity and wonder, which we have when we’re children and often lose over the years.”

Cynicism and jadedness often being unfortunate by-products of the music industry.

“We toured Ireland four or five times before we got our record deal, and afterwards spent another year-and-a-half on the road, so there were certain songs we were ready to stop playing,” Conor admits. “That was almost my starting point for writing this record – ‘What do I not want to repeat and what would I not want to spend two years singing again?’ Originally it came from quite a negative standpoint. Then I started experimenting and gradually developed a group of songs, which had a bit more of an uplifting vibe to them. I wanted the music to make us dance! I felt sometimes I got a bit self-indulgent, like I’m telling you my feelings and you have to feel the way I do – ‘Everybody shut-up and listen to me because it’s important.’ I wasn’t interested in doing another slightly academic album.”

While still mining deep personal themes – more of which anon – {Awayland} finds O’Brien adding light to the shade that dominated its Becoming A Jackal predecessor. There’s also been a sharpening of the pop hooks, a broadening of the musical palette to take in funk and Krautrock and an evolution from occasionally awkward student poet into master lyricist. Was Conor aware as the Domino heavies forcibly ejected him from the mastering suite that he’d so comprehensively nailed it?

“I’m a strange mixture of believing in myself too much and almost not wanting to talk it up. I don’t mean this to sound arrogant, but because we work so hard I always knew stuff would happen for us. Once I got the bug to make music I didn’t think about anything else. Every day after school it was the same – I’d go home and record another demo, listen to more albums. Occasionally I’d go out and get drunk, but that was it really.”

What did Mr. & Mrs. O’Brien make of their son’s obsessive lifestyle?

“They were stupidly supportive,” he grins. “I had a drum-kit and used to bring bands over to play psychedelic punk music – sort of like Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd – at full volume. I owe them and the people living in the bungalows next to us a big ‘thank you’ for not complaining about the noise!”

The folks must have been chuffed in May 2011 when he fended off stiff competition from Foals and Everything Everything to win the Ivor Novello Award for ‘Best Song Musically & Lyrically’.

“They’ve got my Ivor at home in the sitting-room; it looks like a famine victim!”

Yeah, it’s not very well nourished.

“It’s the Greek Goddess of Music who obviously had some kind of eating disorder. That was an amazing day being in the same room as Kylie and Elton John – he’s really into The Strypes and saw them recently in a tiny London club. I caught them myself the other night and it was like how I imagined the Stones or The Kinks would’ve sounded in the early ‘60s. They’re really knowledgeable about the music they make.”

Conor’s own burgeoning rock legend fan club includes Paul Weller who patted him on the back and went, “Good job, kiddo!” when they were on Later With... Jools Holland together and Ed from Radiohead who was on the guestlist for one of Villagers’ London shows.

“That was amazing because growing up they literally meant everything to me,” he coos. “My first gig aged 14 was them in the RDS on the OK Computer tour. It doesn’t get any better than that!”

There was also a familiar face side-of-stage last September when Conor and the chaps played Electric Picnic.

“Yeah, Bono was there with his mates. U2 mean a lot to me. It’s become sort of a kneejerk thing to criticise them, but when you consider how many times they’ve reinvented themselves in really interesting ways… They’ve made mistakes but generally they’re an incredible band.”

Did he get to see them as a nipper?

“My friend David Hedderman from The Immediate’s mum had a spare ticket and brought us to see them in, I can’t remember which, either Croke Park or Labsdowne Road. I was going though a Velvet Underground phase and thought, ‘This is going to be mainstream shit’ but four or five songs in I was converted. My favorite album’s Achtung Baby. I liked it when they got weird and ironic about the rock star thing.”

Given how they like to champion younger bands – Elbow, Snow Patrol, Glasvegas, Interpol, Arcade Fire, The Fray and Florence all got the nod last time – it wouldn’t surprise me if U2 request the pleasure of Villagers’ company when they next tour.

“That would be awesome! If the opportunity to support U2 arose, I’d jump at it.”

Over to you Bono! Conor looks genuinely gobsmacked when I suggest that with his Ivor Novello Award, Mercury Music Prize nomination and wholesale seduction of BBC Radio – Zane Lowe, Annie Mac, Philly Taggert, Lauren Laverne, Jo Whiley, Marc Riley, Steve Lamacq, Cerys Matthews, Shaun Keavney and Nick Grimshaw are all fans – {Awayland} is a top 10 UK hit waiting to happen.

“Really?” he says a tad uneasily. “I haven’t given that side of things much thought…”

He should do because selling records = automatic intrusion into your private life. I remember Gary Lightbody telling me how much of a shock to the system it was when ‘Run’ charted and suddenly the redtops wanted to know everything from his shoe size (10) to who he lost his virginity to (gentleman that he is, Gary never said).

“I’ve led a very boring life,” Conor protests. That’s not entirely true with his divulging last year to Hot Press of a tour bus story worthy of the mighty Motörhead themselves.

“Unbeknownst to us, somebody not in Villagers had a little bit of contraband, which was discovered at the border crossing between El Paso and Juárez in Mexico – probably one of the worst places in the world to have something illegal on you,” he reminisced none too fondly. “Anyway, we got taken in and I found myself sat next to these two completely fucked looking Mexican dudes who had sand all over them, presumably from being out in the desert. We got escorted into these two cells at one in the morning and were left there for eight hours without being told anything. It’s a good story now, but at the time we were shitting ourselves!”

Any more brushes with foreign law enforcement?

“No, hopefully that was a one off! We nearly got into trouble in Singapore when three of us went into this bar in Chinatown and some girls came over and started chatting. We thought, ‘Gosh, aren’t they friendly?’ and bought one of them a drink. It slowly dawned on the nice little Irish boys that we were being watched by their pimps who weren’t pleased when we made our excuses and left!

“Singapore’s such a weirdly cool place. It was like €70 or €80 to get in and the gig was sold-out. There are lots of British, Chinese, Indians and Malaysians there, and of course no chewing-gum!”

Much fun was also had last autumn when Villagers zipped round Europe with their heroes Grizzly Bear.

“That was amazing!” Conor beams. “It was the first time we got the chance to road test the new songs and the audience reacted more to them than they did to the old stuff, which was both great and a bit confusing! Another plus on the Grizzly Bear tour was getting to meet Nico Muhly who does their and Bjork’s strings. He came backstage and said, ‘Oh my God, I love your band!’ and we were like, ‘Oh my God, we love you too!’ We’re doing a show together this year in the London Barbican with a full orchestra and everything!”

The indie hobnobbing doesn’t end there…

“At Other Voices before Christmas I duetted with Owen Pallett who’s another hero of mine. We also met Paul Buchanan who’s the loveliest man. Tommy (McLaughlin, Villagers’ guitarist) got to ask him the all-important question – ‘Celtic or Rangers?’ It was ‘Celtic’, so he was happy!”

Returning to those personal themes that run like a river through {Awayland}; can Conor elaborate on his recent “I’m singing the things I’m not able to say” comment?

“Er… it would be awkward if you were to bring some of these songs into everyday conversation,” he says somewhat falteringly. “I’ve been really getting into (deceased Anglo-American poet) W.H. Auden who’s almost the perfect writer. He was the master of stripping things back and saying what he needed to say in a few lines. I know that’s not answering your question, but he’s a definite influence on how I’ve been writing these past 18 months.”

Will friends and family listen to {Awayland} and go, “Wow, I didn’t know that’s how he felt.’”

“Yeah, probably,” Conor nods. “There’s stuff in there that I imagine will surprise them. The joy for me is mixing vaguely political issues with the strange emotions, thoughts and feelings that inhabit your inner world. It’s almost like putting an order on your complete confusion. You want to maintain a mystique but at the same time invite other people into your world. It’s hard to explain…”

To paraphrase Frank Zappa somewhat, talking about music is like dancing about architecture.

“Yeah, talking about your songs is almost how you justify shaving or sneezing. It’s something you just do.”

From his earliest days with The Immediate, Conor’s lyrics have always been gender non-specific. Is that a conscious thing?

“Well, I’ve always been interested in pronouns and constantly change them live. I think it’s quite a creative thing to do. I like playing with people’s preconceptions. Just when they think they’ve worked you out, you throw in a curveball!”

We were talking earlier about the insanity of what happened to Savita Halappanavar. Has he ever felt personally oppressed by Official Ireland?

“Not really, no. I’ve just finished reading Persepolis, which is an autobiography of a woman growing up in the Islamic Revolution and that’s oppression. She talks about being 12 and suddenly having to wear a headscarf and being called a prostitute because she has a soft drink can in her hand. I don’t really feel I have that much to complain about.”

What was going on in Conor’s head when he was 12?

“When I was born was a really weird time in Ireland. The church was starting to lose its vice-like grip on the country, and suddenly we had money. There wasn’t any focal point in society. So I just turned my back on everything and buried myself in music.”

And thank non-existent God for that!

“I’m at my happiest when I’m singing,” he concludes with a smile. “It’s the continuance of my childhood hobby. It’s what I honestly feel I was born to do.”

As part of our upcoming Up Close and Personal series at The Grand Social, Dublin, Conor O'Brien will be joining us on Tuesday, September 28, to discuss Villagers' Awayland. There are a handful of tickets left, available here.

Villagers’ new album Fever Dreams is out now.