Paddy's Blog

Ponce De Leon

2011-07-25T19:19:00.000+01:00

I finally had my first solo gig the other week in Tower Records. It was a bit nerve-wracking, if I'm being honest. There were a lot of things to worry about, and only so much time. My checklist of gear took up an entire A4 page, which seemed a lot for one person. Still, I managed to actually get everything to the shop without any major hiccups, and there was even time to grab a quick coffee before setting up. The stage felt absolutely huge with nobody else on it. It didn't help that the stage also doubled as an area for selling Doc Martens; there was going to be an enormous shoe display behind me for the entire set. Still, there was nothing to do but set up the gear. There wasn't really a soundcheck, I just turned my amp up to full volume. I was given a mic to say a few words. The crowd consisted pretty much entirely of my friends, so it barely seemed necessary to say anything, but I do enjoy public speaking. Thirty seconds or so of the first section of the set were recorded by my friend Dave on his iPhone, which you can see on the video below.

You can see the shoes very clearly in this picture.

The set itself was like a blur, I have no idea how long I played for. The onstage sound was a bit messy in places - with the amp on full volume, some of the more dissonant things I played had a strong vibration to them. By the end of the set, it sounded to me like I was going through a distortion pedal. Still, I was having fun. I'm not sure if Tower will be rushing to have any more solo bass sets in the near future, though.

In other news, I also bought a bike this week. I haven't owned one in twelve or thirteen years, but I want to start getting some exercise, and I want to cut down my reliance on buses where possible. I also found great prices for second-hand bikes in good condition from the awesome Dublin Bike Man. Here it is for your viewing pleasure, although the picture doesn't really do it justice:

I know it's probably not to everyone's taste, but it's light and green, and I like it. I think it's kinda Paddy-ish, in a way. I'm not trying to pull wheelies or go downhill racing down some mountain in Wicklow. All I want is to get from point A to point B in safety. It takes a bit of getting used to, though. My first journey was the trip home from town after picking it up. I was a little edgy setting off after such a long time not cycling, but I figured I had to start somewhere. There are a lot of differences from my old mountain bike: the handlebars are a lot narrower, the brake handles are a little hard to reach, and the gear shifters were below the crossbar. The saddle is also made out of hard plastic. On the other hand, my mountain bike didn't have a bell on it. After a few initial wobbles, I found myself cycling easily enough along the cycle lane home. I was almost enjoying myself.

As I was passing the RTÉ studios, I approached a bus stop. A small metal fence guarded the edge of the bus stop from the cycle lane, and as I came closer I couldn't help but notice that the bike was veering towards it. I find that in moments like these, time seems to move a lot more slowly. Years ago, as a completely useless mountain biker on the back of Three Rock Mountain, I used to get this feeling often enough as I cycled towards a rock that was going to knock me over the handlebars. I tried turning away from the fence, but it was a bit late for that. Sure enough, the handlebars caught themselves in the fence and I felt myself lurch forward and off the bike, but apart from how awkward the whole scene must have looked, I didn't hurt myself apart from a bruise on my arm and a bruise on my pride. At least there weren't even any cars passing by who could have seen me, and no pedestrians either. Things could have been much worse.

The Other Side of Darkness

2011-07-03T18:08:00.000+01:00

It was my mother's birthday this week, which meant one thing - the yearly search for a birthday present. I went out a few times looking for something, but to no avail. Eventually, my brother Joe and I ended going into town the day before the big day to try and find something. We ended up in Brown Thomas, looking for a clutch bag of some description. After going to all the different departments, looking at the bags on offer, only one bag really fitted the bill. The woman behind the counter really tried to push us towards another bag which was more than twice the cost and not even as nice; it had gold buckles and all that kind of ostentatious crap. She told us that it WAS DEFINITELY THE BAG SHE WOULD CHOOSE if she was going to buy one. Despite this, we stuck with our original choice. The lady seemed a little pissed off about this - for one thing, she didn't even offer to gift wrap the bag for us, even though I think it's store policy for gifts. It was only when my mother opened her gift that I realised how pissed off the woman must have been: instead of giving us a gift receipt like she should have done, she had put a normal receipt in the bag with the price and all the details on it, where my mother could easily have found it. I was furious. Still, the bag went down very well, so that's the main thing.

Rochelle, Rochelle

2011-06-23T13:55:00.000+01:00

Despite the reputation I have among my friends as being a "jazz lover" or whatever, I only went to my first Dublin gig in a year or so at the Jazz Kitchen on Tuesday night. I bumped into loads of old friends from the Newpark days, and it was nice to catch up. The music was great too, although people need to learn to clap after solos. I cheered at the end of one of the sets, and a girl from the next table turned around and looked at me like I was a lunatic. She was good looking, too.

Speaking of gigs, I have my very first solo show coming up in a few weeks. During the break I took from writing here, I recorded a CD of solo bass music and put it in a few shops around town. One of the shops was Tower Records on Wicklow Street, so I was able to get an instore slot for the 14th of July.

For those of you who are suitably inclined, you can find a Facebook event page here with videos and streaming audio and all that kinda stuff. Come down if you feel like it.

Prognosis: Negative

2011-06-21T17:22:00.001+01:00

It's been nearly four months since my last blog entry, probably the longest gap since I started writing all those years ago. I can break down many of the events of this period into three categories:

Category 1 - Things I shouldn't write about

Ah, if only I could tell you some of the anecdotes.

Category 2 - Things I can't write about

Stories that involve me as well as people who tend to get Googled a lot.

Category 3 - Things I could write about, but I won't

Similar to Category 1, but either not funny or too disgusting.

It makes me wish that the blog didn't have my name in the title, I could get away with murder if I had a bit more anonymity.

2011-03-01T15:56:00.000Z

February is finally over. I think it must be the worst month of the year, at least it's also the shortest. My granny spent a few weeks in hospital after a flare up of her polymyalgia. She was in a lot of pain, so it was a relief that she was able to get good care and have proper medical attention. With her VHI cover, she was put into Blackrock Hospital, where she shared a very comfortable room with some other nice ladies. There were no set visiting hours either, so we could come and go as we liked. She's home now and starting to feel a little bit better. Hopefully she'll be able to get out and about soon enough.

At the same time that my granny was going into hospital, my dad's uncle Flannan died. I didn't remember him until my dad mentioned that he used to work for the airport police. When I was a kid I was in the airport often enough, and Flannan was always very nice to me, so I decided to head to the funeral. It was my first Kiernan family occasion in a long time - I hadn't seen some of my relatives for nearly ten years, and I suppose I was a little nervous. I needed have worried, everyone was very friendly and there was a nice atmosphere. There was a big crowd of people attending, and it felt like I was related to all of them. Practically everyone I spoke to was a cousin of some description, and a lot of them were serious country characters. After the funeral mass, we all went to the burial. The cemetery overlooked Skerries village and the sea, and you could see as far north as the Cooleys. It was gorgeous. Everyone hung out for an hour or so after the ceremony ended, and we all talked and had a laugh. Flannan was captain of Skerries Golf Club for 2011, so the club had arranged for drinks in the club house for the mourners. I really need to take up golf at some stage.

I got my beloved bass back from the repair shop the other day, finally. The high C string still sounded a little out of tune, but it seemed ok. Otherwise, everything felt great, and I was happy. It was only when I played the bass at home the next day that I realised how out of tune the string was. I nearly felt physically ill listening to it. I decided to take matters into my own hands, and searched through some internet forums looking for answers. I also made a recording of the string, so people could listen to the tuning problem. Within a few minutes, I had gotten an answer back: I needed to adjust the bridge saddles. With nothing more complicated than a screwdriver, a tuner, and the advice I was given, I managed to fix a problem that had eluded two luthiers. I should have just gone on the internet about this years ago.

I was in Windmill Lane Studios yesterday with the Electric Penguins recording bass for a new track. Loads of famous bands have recorded there - U2, The Cranberries, Riverdance... It's a really amazing place. They even have an actual plate reverb box. I heard a rumour that Phil Lynott might have used this at one stage, I hope that's true.

The recording room is absolutely incredible. Even finger clicks sound amazing in it. It's normally used for orchestras and stuff like that. I'd love to see it in action some day. The recording itself was pretty straightforward. The tune we were recording is on the soundtrack to a show on Channel 4, and the boys wanted a live rhythm section over it. The drums went down very easily, but my bass refused to work when it was my time to record. After a few minutes of stressing and opening up the bass to inspect the electronics, I figured out that the new batteries I had brought specifically for the session were faulty. After changing back to my old battery, my bass was working again perfectly. We got a sound together in about thirty seconds, and had a solid enough idea for the bassline after a few minutes. I think the whole process was done inside of half an hour or so.

Also, for anyone who's interested in this kinda thing (and that's probably very few people, to be fair), I've started making scratch recordings of solo improvised bass music over the last few weeks. I appreciate that it's a bit of a niche market, but it's something I've been interested in for a while. So far I have seven ideas on tape, when I get just a few more I might try and get a gig or two. Feel free to check out my Soundcloud page here, if you feel like it.

2011-01-31T17:39:00.000Z

I was walking down the quays yesterday with my friend Gosia. I was on my way into town for a pint with my friend Dave, and she was going to the local off-licence to get a couple of cans of Bulmers for her sister, who was arriving home from Poland last night. There was a Spar on the way with an ATM inside, so we decided to pop in and check the price of the cider in there. We walked over to the fridge and looked at the cans - I think it was about €2.30 a can. Gosia walked over to the ATM at the opposite side of the shop to get some cash, while I stayed by the fridge and tried to figure out if €2.30 was a good price or not. My thoughts were suddenly disturbed by a commotion at the checkout - by the time I turned around, I saw the shop assistant running away from the till, and some guy jumping over the counter to get to the money. He had a hood over his face, and plastic bags over his shoes. It was very strange. He was shouting something, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. I got the impression he didn't want us looking at him, though. I wasn't sure what to do, until I heard Gosia calling me and telling me to get out of there. If she wasn't hanging around, I wasn't going to either. We dashed out the front door, and around the corner, only to have the guy who robbed the shop right behind us. It was a tense couple of seconds. We were blocked at the end of the road by a Luas, but we managed to get around it and into a local pub. We caused a bit of a stir rushing in. The place was full of dudes in tracksuits not dissimilar to what the robber was wearing - for a second I thought he might nearly follow us in there. We took a minute to catch our breath, and headed back outside. An auld lad was standing there having a smoke, and he told us that the robber had headed away from the pub, towards town.

Gosia and I headed back to her gaff. I made a couple of cups of hot tea with loads of sugar, and we cleaned the place up a bit before her sister arrived home. Things seemed to calm down a good bit after a while. By about ten o'clock, with Gosia's sister home to keep her company, I headed out again to finally go for that pint with Dave. The Spar was open for business, like nothing had happened.

2011-01-25T15:21:00.000Z

My phone went uncharacteristically quiet last week. I'd send a text, and I wouldn't get any reply. Occasionally one message would pop up, and I'd reply, only to get the silent treatment again. I thought I'd done something to offend everyone. This went on for a few days, and just out of curiosity I decided to put my SIM card into my old Nokia to see what would happen... And thirty previously undelivered messages popped up. It was a relief. Still, I've stuck with the Nokia since. It's been a bit of a revelation since I went back to it. My friend Dave's beloved iPhone 4 got stolen last week, and it's made me paranoid about bringing my valuables into town. At least everyone can agree that nobody in their right mind would want to steal my phone - they'd be lucky to get five quid for it. I mightn't be able to download the latest apps, but my battery lasts without a charge for days at a time. Best of all, the phone has no Internet capacity whatsoever, freeing me from the shackles of Facebook and checking emails. I should have started using that phone ages ago.

I went on Saturday night to catch my old friend Owensie's album release gig. It was on in the Back Loft, just off of Thomas Street, which is a really great venue, and I dragged my friend Gosia along. I was thrilled to see that the place was packed to the rafters. The show was amazing, marred only by the fact that we were standing behind a bunch of loud dickheads who just wouldn't shut the fuck up. Still, I had a lot of fun. The album should be released in a few days, you can listen to it online here. It's really incredible, so check it out.

I was up early on Sunday to bring my beloved six-string bass, Natalie, to Derrick Nelson in Marlay Park for repairs. She's had a rough couple of years, suffering ill treatment at the hands of careless couriers and the wear and tear of heavy metal gigs. The high C string has become impossible to tune, and as of yet no repairman has been able to tell me why. It's worrying. I felt like I was in a doctor's surgery while I waited for Derrick's assessment of the problem. Unfortunately, even he wasn't able to tell me what the problem was - all the measurements he took were normal. He's keeping the bass with him for a few more days to see if he can figure out what's going wrong. I hope he does - if I have to change the neck on it, the body will be the only original part left.

2011-01-10T19:40:00.000Z

I really need to update this thing more often.

I was back in Sun Studios for the first time in seven years to record some tunes a few weeks ago. The band went there a few times back in the day to record some demos. The problem was that our drummer at the time improvised more than we liked, which made it very difficult to get good takes of the tunes we were putting down, so they always sucked. The only good thing to come out of the time we used was a video documentary we made that is probably too obscene and offensive for public consumption. I think the worst parts were already deleted, before anyone asks.

I was a bit unsure what to expect as I was walking to the studio; I had only been shown the music we were meant to record the night before in the space of an hour. The pressure faded away when I walked into the control room and found a Pro Tools setup waiting for me. I suppose I was still haunted by visions of trying to edit drum parts on tape with an Akai sampler. That idea didn't work. My friend Abel was playing drums on the recording, which made everything much easier. We've played a bit together and we were both in Newpark, so we were both coming from the same perspective on things. We recorded our parts together at the same time, which was nice. The engineer insisted on getting complete takes for all the tunes, giving them a certain looseness that suited the style. Hopefully the final product will come out well.

After that, there was a week of rehearsals for the Electric Penguins' album release gig. The weather was freezing at the time, which made the rehearsal room we were using very cold and uncomfortable. That made it hard to get motivated, which was a problem considering that we were planning on performing the entire album live for the first time. The sound in the room was also very difficult, especially considering how many synths were being used. An interview with Hot Press came out midway through the rehearsals, though, which brightened things up a bit. By the end of the week, we had managed to get the entire set together. The gig itself was in The Grand Social, just off the quays. We had a few technical problems from the start, especially with electrical noise coming from the laptop we use. A film crew had arrived to shoot the gig, and had set up an enormous camera on a frame just in front of the stage, blocking the view of the audience. When I got my gear set up, I realised that there wasn't enough monitor speakers for everyone, and I would have to go without. It was a little unnerving. We had a quick soundcheck, but to me everything sounded muddy and indistinct. Without a monitor, there was nothing to do but grin and bear it.

By the time we were due onstage, a good size crowd had gathered. The camera crew had moved the camera out of the way of the audience, and things seemed to be ticking over nicely. The gremlins came for me when the set started though, I could barely hear a thing. The bass had degenerated into a subby mess, the backing track was inaudible over the drums, and the keyboards might as well not have been switched on for all I could hear. I think it was probably the most stressful gig of my life so far. There were times where it felt like everyone was in a slightly different place in the tune, although that could have been down to the sound. It took all of my strength just to try and look calm at least. Still, as I remind everyone, nobody ever dies at these things. Although a few more shows like that and I might have a heart attack.

With the gig out of the way, there was only a week left to Christmas, and I still hadn't done any of my shopping. The family presents were as difficult as ever to get, especially for my brother Joe. Lately there have been a few retro game shops opening, and I tried to track down a SNES for him, like what we used to play on as kids. I don't know how many hours we spent playing Mario Kart when we should have been outside kicking a ball around. Either way, I wasn't having much luck finding one until Joe himself told me that a place on Grafton Street had one in stock... I couldn't tell if this was a subtle hint or not, but I went into town early the next morning to get the SNES regardless, and I managed to pick up a copy of Mario Kart and two controllers too. Some of my old games were still stored away in the attic, and I managed to dig them out - Shadowrun (with a sixteen year-old save file still on the cartridge!), Lemmings, and my old Japanese copy of Super Mario World. The only thing missing was my copy of Zelda. Those were some really great days for games. With that one present out of the way, the rest of the family were still left to shop for. Joe and I went splits on gifts for our mother and our granny, and I got twenty euro of pennies and a copy of The Master and Margarita for my dad. He likes that kinda stuff. I was pleased with my shopping.

On the 22nd of December, the band's album finally came out. It's only available on iTunes in Ireland for now, but at least it's out. I don't even care if it sells a single copy - the next time I'm in a metal bar and some guy asks me when the album is coming out, I can tell them to go onto iTunes and just buy the fucking thing. The proverbial albatross has been lifted from my neck. Incidentally, in case you missed the link above:

BUY THE ALBUM HERE

2010-12-06T18:55:00.000Z

Today my mother had her first check-up appointment for her broken wrist at the hospital. Since our last visit, conditions outside have gotten even worse. The paths around the estate are under covered in a sheet of ice, glistening dangerously. Just like last week, we couldn't get a guarantee of a taxi arriving on time to take us to the appointment, so my mother and I walked to catch a bus instead. Rather than risk walking along the icy paths, we decided to cut through the field at the back of the estate. It was about eight o'clock in the morning, and -7. There must have been six or seven inches of snow over the grass. Still, it was very refreshing, and my mother didn't find it hard to walk across, which was the main thing.

We made it to the hospital in good time, and in one piece. There was a bigger queue than last time, I suppose people had been breaking bones all week. There were two TVs in opposite corners of the room, showing two different channels with the sound off. One channel had a show that appeared to feature a group of doctors. I think it was called Why Did This Happen To Me? This week's topic: incontinence. I recognised a few people from our visit last week - a mother and daughter, a woman who told my mother that since hurting herself she has to slide down the stairs rather than walk, and the pregnant Polish girl we saw with a broken ankle. We weren't waiting long before my mother was sent to get an X-ray of her wrist. The Polish girl was just ahead of us in the queue, looking apprehensive. My mother struck up a conversation, and we sat down with her while we waited. It turned out that she was actually married and expecting twins - she was already eight months gone. Her husband was at home with their four year old son while she was in the hospital. She was in her garden on the first day of the snow when she slipped and fell, luckily it was only her ankle that got hurt. We talked about Christmas, Santa is bringing her son a Meccano kit and her sister is coming over from Poland to see the family. I thought it sounded nice. The mother and daughter pair joined us after a few minutes. The mother had broken her wrist a year ago and was still struggling to get the strength back in her hand, despite physiotherapy. I could see a look of horror on my mother's face as the woman described her symptoms. Before she could go into more lurid detail and scare my mother further, I turned away from her to politely end the conversation. It was too early in the morning for that kinda thing.

2010-12-04T18:44:00.000Z

Last week my brother Joe and I booked some cheap last-minute flights to London to do a bit o' Christmas shopping: €55 return to Gatwick for the both of us. It seemed like an absolute steal - the only catch was that we had to take the earliest flight there and the latest flight home, and that we'd be flying with Ryanair. Still, it seemed like a great deal, especially since we only got the tickets a week before departure.

The flights out were booked for Tuesday morning at quarter past six, meaning we had to be on a bus to the airport at three o'clock or so. My alarm was set for quarter past two, giving myself plenty of time to get ready. When it went off, I had only gotten about three hours sleep since Monday morning, when I was awake at seven to get my mother to the hospital for her outpatient appointment. Still, the excitement of getting the Christmas shopping done kept me going. Joe and I wrapped up well for the cold weather outside, and made our way to the bus stop. There was a thick blanket of snow over all the roads, and hardly a sound to be heard. It was very peaceful. The bus came fairly punctually, and we headed off to the airport. We had already checked in online at home, so we had a quick coffee to perk ourselves up before heading through security. So far, so good.

The departure gate was in one of the new airport buildings. We walked past the gate where the boys and I left for Sweden last year, and it made me feel nostalgic. There was nothing to do but wait for the flight, so we sat down at our gate and relaxed. Outside the window, snow was falling heavily. A convoy of gritting machines was driving laps around the runway area, keeping it open for flights to take off and land. Things seemed to be running surprisingly smoothly. Our gate opened on time, and we made our way across the tarmac to our plane. The wind and snow was absolutely savage - ice was hitting us in the face as we walked. I'd never seen weather like it. Still, the flight managed to take off without incident. No turbulence or anything. I had forgotten how bad the in-flight experience was onboard a Ryanair flight. Every few minutes, the cabin crew were trying to sell us something. After an hour or so, we were caught in delays above Gatwick, waiting for the runway to clear. It wasn't a big deal, I was in no hurry anyway. We eventually landed safely and made our way through the airport. The first order of business was getting a train into the city.

There is a train station underneath the Gatwick terminal building, and a London train was there waiting for us. We got on, found two seats, and relaxed. It was a very pleasant way to start of the morning in England. There was some interesting scenery, including Battersea Power Station. I love trains. After a short delay, we arrived at Victoria station and battled through the crowds to get into the city centre. It was freezing in London. It was snowy and damp and windy, and very uncomfortable. No matter which direction you were facing, it felt like the weather was blowing directly into your face. This made it very difficult to get any Christmas shopping done, if not impossible. Apart from some muesli and a few cups of coffee, the only thing I bought all day was a set of new bass strings. At about four o'clock, Joe and I admitted defeat - there was no point staying out shopping in London. A bit of research told us that Gatwick duty-free had a branch of Harrod's, so we thought we might just cut our losses, go to the airport, and try our luck there.

We got to Victoria station at around five o'clock to get the train back to the airport. I thought it would have been plenty of time, the light wasn't due to leave for five hours or so. There were massive crowds in the station's concourse, but that didn't worry me. It was only when we got to the platform itself that we realised that something was wrong. There were trains standing at the platform, not moving. I asked a member of staff what was happening, and she couldn't give me any answers. I got the impression that the trains weren't moving at all. An announcement was made over the PA that a train was leaving for Horsham, eleven miles from Gatwick. A stampede of people ran for this train, they must have been hoping to make their own way to the airport after that. It seemed like a bad idea to go with them. I knew from a previous trip to London that there was a coach station nearby, so I thought we might go there to try and catch a bus to Gatwick. I thought this was a pretty clever idea, but a few hundred other people seemed to have thought of it as well - a queue for buses extended out of the front door of the building. A man at the ticket desk told us that the next bus for Gatwick would be leaving at ten o'clock, much too late for us. The roads there were reportedly treacherous. There was nothing to do but to go back to the train station and see if there were any updates.

We got back to the station to find that nothing had changed. A crowd had gathered on the platform, waiting for news. It didn't look good. We still had time to make the last flight out of Heathrow if there were flights available, so Joe and I headed to a nearby internet cafe to see if we could book something. Unsurprisingly, we couldn't. All the flights were sold out. We headed back to the train platform once again, and hoped that a train would leave. By this time, a bigger crowd had gathered. On the platforms in front and behind us, police were dealing with huge crowds crushing against barriers and pushing their way onto trains. It seemed that things could get ugly. I told Joe that I thought we should just book a hotel for the night and fly out in the morning, but he wanted to wait a little longer, so we did. Eventually, to my surprise, the doors of the train opened. I couldn't believe my eyes. The crowd started to push dangerously towards the narrow train door. People were getting squeezed badly, and it started to feel very claustrophobic. I grabbed Joe and pushed him into the carriage before following him. Miraculously, there were two free seats right next to a window, and we sat down. We were ecstatic, it seemed like everything was going to work out perfectly after all.

The train made its way slowly through the snow to the airport. At every train station, we saw massive crowds waiting. It looked pretty miserable. After the best part of an hour, we pulled into Gatwick and made our way to the departure gates. Our flight seemed to be delayed, but we didn't care. The main thing was that we made it to the airport. With all the train delays, a lot of other passengers appeared to be running late for their flights. This made the security checks very interesting. Tensions were running high, and people refused to queue properly. It was like a zoo. We eventually passed through security and into the departures area proper. There wasn't a whole lot to do. Most of the shops were about to close, except for a HMV and a WH Smith. I bought some Maltesers, they killed about ten minutes. Meanwhile, our flight became even more delayed. There was a woman sitting alone in a chair across from me, and we struck up a conversation. Her name was Margaret, and she was from Naas. She was over visiting her daughter, and now she was waiting for the same flight as us. After a while, passengers started to come back from the departure gates, looking confused. It seemed that the runway was being closed, and passengers were being taken off of flights. Airline representatives were at the information desk with megaphones, advising passengers. Our flight was still a few hours away, so there was no information for us. As time went on, and the situation deteriorated, it seemed less and less likely that we'd be taking off. Ryanair representatives wouldn't even answer the phone to airport staff though, so we were still being kept in the dark. It was only after the scheduled flight time passed that we were given any news - our flight would not be going ahead, and we were to be taken back to the airport terminal to make new travel arrangements. I felt like getting sick.

Back in the terminal building, a representative told us what was happening in very confusing terms. Passengers on our flight had to go online and re-book flights, as Ryanair would not put us automatically on the next flight back to Dublin. We were also told that there was no accommodation and no way out of the airport, and that we should find somewhere to bed down in the terminal building and get some sleep. Joe, Margaret and I went up to the "internet cafe" (note the inverted commas I used there) to try and book some flights. There were about ten crappy computers with two printers between them, and a crowd of people milling around, waiting for their turn to go online. It was £1 for ten minutes use, and £1 for one sheet of A4 paper for printing. We eventually got online, and decided to book flights back to Dublin on Aer Lingus. Ryanair just seemed like a terrible option at this stage. Conditions at Gatwick seemed to be getting worse and worse - people were sleeping in any place they could find, and there were nowhere near enough toilets. It also seemed unlikely that they were going to be clearing the runway anytime soon. I said to Joe that I thought we should book flights from Heathrow instead - we would be able to find our way there somehow and the flights would be much more likely to leave. We booked the ten o'clock flight to Dublin, giving us plenty of time to get there. We offered to book Margaret on the same flight and take her with us, but she chose to stay in Gatwick. We said our goodbyes, and Joe and I headed off to find a way to Heathrow.

We went back to the train station first of all, but there was no point in taking a train back to London at one o'clock in the morning without having somewhere safe to stay in the city. It seemed better to wait until trains were running back out of London to Heathrow. The only alternative was to find a direct route to Heathrow from Gatwick. Even if we had to sleep in the Heathrow terminal, it would still be safer than sleeping among thousands of strangers. I went to the information desk to see if any other modes of transport were available, and I found a coach park underneath the building. We went down to investigate, and found that a bus was leaving for Heathrow in fifteen minutes. I felt so relieved, at this stage we had been on the go for nearly twenty four hours. The bus came a few minutes later, and we set off on our journey. Joe got some rest while I stayed awake to make sure we didn't miss our stop. The motorway was covered in snow and ice. We passed by abandoned cars and hundreds of trucks parked along the side of the road. There was a twenty mile tailback going in the opposite direction. Every time I closed my eyes I felt myself drift off to sleep, and I could even feel dreams starting. I was looking forward to getting to the airport in one piece.

After an hour or so, we pulled up to Heathrow. There was not a flake of snow to be seen. I didn't know if it was because it just hadn't snowed, or because the staff were so efficient in clearing it up. Either way, it was a good sign. Since we were so early for our flight, we had time to change our booking to an earlier flight home, for free. I was really pleased, I just wanted to get home. We got some food and headed down to the security area - it turned out that we were the first ones in the queue. It took effort to get through all the checks by now, my eyelids felt very heavy. As a precaution, I set an alarm clock in my phone just in case I fell asleep by accident. I was not going to miss the flight. We spent a few minutes wandering through the duty-free area before going to our gate. We were so early that the security doors around the departure gates were still locked. I remember a security guard opening them...

...and then I was being shaken awake by Joe, with a strange noise coming from my pocket - my alarm clock was going off. I didn't know what it was, or where I was. I had never felt such disorientation in my entire life. We were sitting on a chair near one of the departure gates, and I must have fallen asleep. I felt ill through my entire body. Joe got me to our gate. It turned out that our flight was ready to leave, but Dublin Airport was closed due to snow, and they weren't sure if it would re-open. It seemed like the journey was never going to end. I bought a bottle of water and sipped it to settle my stomach while we waited to hear what was going to happen, it seemed to help. We were eventually allowed to board the plane while we waited for the news from Dublin. After half an hour of sitting on tenterhooks, the pilot told us we would be leaving for Dublin after all. I could hardly believe it. The flight itself was pretty uneventful, clear blue skies everywhere. Normally when I land in Dublin, I feel a sense of disappointment that a trip is over. For once, I was thrilled to be back on Irish soil. We had to wait an hour for a bus home, and I didn't even care. It seemed like such a trivial thing after all the delays and hassle. Joe and I arrived home nineteen hours after trying to leave London for Gatwick that first time. I'm never flying Ryanair again.

Get on the Bus

2010-11-29T14:36:00.000Z

At three o'clock Saturday morning, I was woken up by the sound of thunder. I saw flashes of lightning through my curtains, and I looked out... Only to see that everything was blanketed in snow. I was stunned, there had been no real sign of snow coming at all, and it's still only November. Irish winters seem to be getting colder. I managed to get a few more hours sleep before getting up and heading out to the protests in town. I wrapped up nice and warm in my fleece and my parka, and headed to my first stop - Ranelagh, for a quick cup of coffee with my dad. The roads were pretty treacherous, but a bus came quickly. I had time for a quick cappuccino before heading over to my friend Gosia's place in Smithfield. The plan was to leave from there and walk down the quays to the start of the march, avoiding the traffic along the way. After an hour of trudging through the snow, I arrived at her flat and we headed out to the protest. The crowds didn't seem that big at first glance. There were people waving the Starry Plough, and the usual protest march chants: they say cut back, we say fight back, apparently. Someone needs to come up with some new slogans. It amazed me to see how many people had apparently become socialists in the last few months, I wonder how many of these people had SSIA accounts back in the day? We eventually got down to O'Connell Street where a larger crowd had gathered outside the GPO. There were speakers, but it was hard to hear them clearly. People still cheered or booed, though. Estimates vary as to how many people were there - some say one hundred thousand people, others say fifty thousand. I haven't got a clue.

After a night where the temperature plummeted to -7 Celsius, I woke up on a freezing Sunday morning to find my mother in agony in the kitchen. She had just arrived home from a week in Boston, and made it across the city through the snow and ice on the streets here, only to slip on the floor of the local Super Valu when she popped in to buy a newspaper. Her wrist was badly swollen and she was shaking. I made her a cup of hot, sweet tea, and convinced her to go to the local A&E department. I called a taxi, and we headed out. I was glad we did; X-rays showed that she had broken one of the bones leading up to the wrist joint. The very kind doctor there had to perform a "manipulation" on my mother to re-align the bone, it sounded very painful. Two nurses had to help her do it. The doctor put a cast on my mother's wrist afterward, and told her that she would probably need to keep it on for six weeks. An appointment was made for my mother to come back the next morning, and I called a taxi to bring us back home. After an hour, it arrived. Ridiculous, even if there was snow. I ordered another taxi for quarter past eight this morning to bring us to the hospital for nine o'clock. At five to eight this morning, I got a call to say that there was no guarantee the taxi would arrive. Despite what you might read in the papers about there being a glut of taxis in Dublin, it was impossible to get in touch with a taxi company to book another cab in time - phones weren't being picked up. My mother and I ended up walking to the bus stop through the snow.

The outpatient clinic in the hospital was full of people who had fallen due to the snow and ice, like my mother. A Polish girl was being treated before us. She was alone, with a broken ankle, and pregnant. I felt very lucky to be healthy and uninjured. The orthopaedic doctor there told my mother that her cast will be off in four weeks rather than six. So I suppose things could be much worse.

Get in the Van

2010-11-26T14:45:00.000Z

It's been a while. Loads of things have probably happened since the last time I wrote, but it's hard to remember them all.

I know that at some stage a few weeks ago I went up to Belfast with my friend Shawna to help her pick up a new computer - specifically, an iMac. I was looking forward to the journey, we had booked train tickets rather than slumming it on the bus like I normally do. Dublin looked pretty bleak along the train line, loads of half-finished construction projects and empty apartment blocks along the way. A dirty old man sat next to Shawna and starting swigging straight out of a can of Guinness, even though it wasn't yet ten in the morning. Still, it was a pleasant enough journey, and we arrived at Belfast a little over two hours after setting off. There was time to do a little exploring before getting down to the serious business of computer shopping. We ended up in a trendy restaurant/cafe kinda place for a while, and we went to The Crown for a quick drink. I'd seen the place loads of times when I walked out of the bus station, but I had never been in there. They have a very confusing seating system inside with loads of little booths. I suppose that was how they did things back in Victorian times. After that, it was time to go to the Apple Store to look at some computers. The prices up North were a lot cheaper than in Ireland, so it made sense to buy there. Shawna settled on a very fancy looking iMac, and all that was left was to lug the box back to the station. We took pictures of the box on the way back - waiting at a traffic light, standing at a bus stop, sitting in the pub having a pint with me, making a phone call, getting on the train... Here's my favourite picture - iMac reading a book at the train station.

There have been a few more radio sessions for the Penguins album as well. The one I was most excited about was for RTE. We were given two hours in their studio to record two tunes, which seemed like plenty of time. The studio looked very impressive too, they had an enormous recording room with a Steinway grand piano and a Pro Tools setup.

We set everything up quickly enough, but it was very problematic getting a sound together. With the time constraints we were facing, the engineer was only able to give us a very basic mix to listen to while we played, and there was no time to fix mistakes or do overdubs. With ten minutes of our allotted two hour slot remaining, we still didn't have a take of a tune that we were happy with. With only two minutes to spare, we got our first tune on tape. As we were playing, I could see people gathering behind the glass of the control room, and they seemed to be enjoying what we played. We were very kindly given a few minutes to bang out a quick take of another tune, and luckily that take was fine as well. The bass was very loud though. By contrast, a session we did for Today FM in a cramped little recording room went swimmingly. The engineer was able to give everyone a perfect mix and we managed to record two songs in first takes. I haven't heard the recordings back yet, but I would imagine they came out fine.

I suppose the biggest event of the last month or so is the arrival of the IMF a few days ago, after days of denials from government ministers. You can't escape hearing about it these days. It's amazing how much things have changed here in the last couple of years. In 2008, days before the recession kicked in, a neighbour's daughter bought a one-bedroom apartment in Shankill for around €400,000: talk about a fin de siècle moment. You can now buy what I would imagine to be a similar place for... €159,000. I suppose these are the risks when you base an economy on property development. Anyway, I'm sick of talking about it. There's a march protesting government austerity plans on tomorrow, and I'll be going along. It's been twelve years since my last march, hopefully this one will be worthwhile.

Golden Lane

2010-10-11T15:00:00.001+01:00

The Electric Penguins' new album came out last week. It's been a long journey - I remember hearing early mixes of the album back when I was recording in Sweden last year. Still, it's out now and getting good reviews, so that's all that matters. With that in mind, the first promotional activities started on Thursday with some back-to-back radio appearances on RTE 2XM and 4FM. We were booked to play some stripped down versions of a few tunes and to give some quick interviews. The 2XM show was recorded in the Filmbase in Temple Bar. We had a few problems with feedback through one of the vocal mics, and the producer graciously allowed us to do another take. People seemed to enjoy it. Once we were done recording it was time for the boys to do their interview, so I packed up my gear and headed up the road to 4FM. The studio was on the fifth floor of an office block, with amazing views over the city. This was the view that greeted me when I stepped out of the lift:

Not bad, is it? The girl who let me into the building showed me to a balcony that overlooked the entire northside of the city. You could see everything, it would be an amazing place to take a smoke break. Everyone else arrived a few minutes later, and we headed into the studio to do a few quick takes of the tunes. Apart from a little bit of re-arranging that we had to do, the whole thing was completely painless. The DJ was a very nice guy, and he was full of interesting questions for the interview. All in all, it was a very pleasant experience.

On Friday, we were booked to play at the HWCH festival in Sweeney's on Dame Street. It was my first time playing one of these gigs, and I wasn't sure what to expect. The whole thing was much better organised than I would have imagined, everyone was very helpful and friendly. Considering the tiny stage and the amount of gear that the band use, the whole setup was relatively comfortable. There was a good crowd at the venue too. Apart from a few tense seconds at the start of the show when the computer wouldn't seem to start up, the gig was fine, and I think everyone had fun. On Saturday afternoon, we were set to play Tower Records as a part of a second HWCH gig. I was looking forward to the show. Setup went very well, and a nice crowd had started to gather as we began to play, including a lot of friends and family members. I was having a great time. At the end of the first song, something happened offstage, and Mark the singer jumped off, followed by our drummer, Tony. From where I was standing it wasn't immediately clear what was happening, so I came offstage too, only to see the end of an argument. Some guy was talking about "assault" and calling the guards. Mark, Tony and I went back onstage and continued playing. After a few more tunes, the Gardaí arrived and we had to cut the set short. I shouldn't really get into the specifics of what happened here before I give any statement to the police, but in the words of music blogger Nialler9:

"Former electric penguins member attacked the band at the tower instore earlier. Guards called. Madness."

At least nobody was hurt, just a little shocked. Still, it got people talking about the band and the album, and it looked like quite a few CDs had been sold. They say all publicity is good publicity, don't they?

PESTEL

2010-09-29T17:25:00.001+01:00

I was walking up to the door of the gaff on Friday morning when I saw our neighbour's cat, Tiggy, in the garden. She's very friendly, so I went over to say hello. As I got closer, I realised something was happening. She was chewing on something, but I couldn't see what. I presumed that she was just eating a piece of food or whatever, but it looked a bit suspicious. So I shooed her away, and found that she had caught a rat - and one of its legs had been gnawed off. I was horrified, and I backed away. Tiggy immediately went back to nibbling at her catch. It was very hard not to wretch at this stage. Before things got even worse, it seemed like a good idea to get rid of it. I went looking for a shovel to scoop it up with, but the only thing I could find was a small hoe. I pushed Tiggy away gingerly before trying to pick up what was left of the rat. I could feel the small little body flexing as I put the blade of the hoe underneath it. My stomach was turning. Eventually I had it picked up, but then I had nowhere to put it. I thought that I could probably throw it down the sewer drain on the road outside the house, but the grates looked a little narrow for a big rodent to fit through, and I didn't fancy forcing it through. I could see the rat's eyes looking at me, unblinking. Tiggy was following me around, keeping an eye on her prey. The only option appeared to put the body in a plastic bag, and dump it in the bin. So that's what I did. It's a better fate than being eaten by a cat, isn't it?

Later that day I had rehearsals with the Penguins for a gig that was meant to be on Saturday night. As we were about to wrap up, we got a call that the gig had been cancelled, but we could do another gig in the Gypsy Rose instead. I was the only one who had been there before, so we decided to have a look at the place before saying yes or no to the gig. And so Tony (the band's drummer) and I headed into town for a bit of reconnaissance. When we got there, the first thing we saw was a table of four biker dudes, head to toe in black leather. They didn't look like they'd enjoy an hour of 1970's German-influenced folk music. We made our way through the crowd up to the stage area. I had my bass on my back, and some guy started trying to make funny remarks about whether I was going to get up and play or not. The stage itself wouldn't have fit our drumkit, let alone all the gear we use. It quickly dawned on us that the Gypsy wouldn't be a great place to us to play. Still, it seemed like a waste of rehearsals not to play, so we found a more low-key gig on Sunday in The Mercantile on Dame Street. It was a hard night. The show was much later than we expected, and we had to deal with the most chaotic onstage sound I've ever heard. I suppose it's one of the perils of having a really complicated stage setup. Still, it was great experience for us. We have a much bigger gig with the HWCH next week and things have to go smoothly. After the gig, I went to catch a Luas home, only to find that the last tram had already left at half eleven - three quarters of an hour before I had gotten there. I wasn't about to pay one solitary cent to a taxi driver, so there was nothing to do but walk home. It was a nice night, at least. By the time I had gotten to my road, the skies had cleared and I saw what looked like a massive star in the sky. I pulled out my phone and my trusty sky map to find out what it was - and it turned out to be Uranus and Jupiter occupying roughly the same space in the sky. It would have been amazing to have a telescope right then.

I got around to giving my room its yearly cleaning yesterday. I'm still not finished (it's a work in progress), but at least I got rid of the bulk of the stuff that was littering my floor. Every time I do it I end up finding crazy stuff - this year I found an empty box of Jaffa Cakes stuffed with Kleenexes. I don't remember ever putting tissues into the box, but if I didn't do it, who did? It reminded me of a passage from one of Don DeLillo's books - White Noise - where the main character roots through his household rubbish and finds a tampon stuffed into a banana skin. I remember reading that section and thinking that the author probably wrote it because it had happened to him at some stage. Where else could you think of something like that? That was the one good part of a book that I hated.

Soft as Chalk

2010-09-15T13:13:00.000+01:00

Early September is normally a stressful time for me, namely because I face a perfect storm of family birthdays to buy presents for: my granny on the 10th, and my brother Joe on the 11th. At least his birthday is very easy to remember. He was also relatively straightforward to buy for this year, but finding something for my granny was very difficult. I think she said something about wanting a pair of slippers or whatever, but that isn't a proper birthday gift, is it? Joe and I trekked into town the day before her birthday to try and find her something nice. Our first port of call was to grab a coffee for inspiration, and after a few minutes an idea hit Joe - a locket with family pictures inside. I was sold. We headed to our favourite jeweller (Rhinestones, on St. Andrew's Street) and picked something nice. The whole process took about five minutes, if even. Simple. That night we took a picture of the family and put it in the locket. On the other side we put a picture of Chairman Meow.

My granny really liked it.

The next day was Joe's birthday. We ended up heading out to Walkinstown to check out a vintage guitar shop. The bus took us down through Thomas Street, where a bunch of hard-looking women stood at the bus stop. One of the women was about forty years old. She looked absolutely vicious, not helped by a tattoo on her arm that said "Proud to be White and Irish". I was glad she wasn't getting on our bus. The guitar shop happened to be located in a deserted industrial estate off the Ballymount Road. There were weeds all along the footpaths, and not a soul to be seen anywhere. I wouldn't want to be walking down there at night. The shop had some nice stuff, though. Loads of old basses from the Seventies. We ended up walking over to the Red Cow to check out another guitar shop afterward... It was only about a mile away on foot, but it felt twice as long. It's a pretty bleak corner of the world out there.

Joanna Newsom was playing last night in the new Grand Canal Theatre. I'd been waiting for months for the show, so I was very excited. I stopped on my way to buy a coffee, and I picked up a copy of Ulysses for three quid too. At that price, who could say no? I walked down by Merrion Square and down towards Pearse Street. You can see all the glittering new apartments and offices by the canal, but there were still crowds of boys in tracksuits on the street corners. One of them threw a stone across the road at me, missing by about a metre. I ignored them and kept walking. The theatre itself is very striking. I had only seen it once before when it was under construction, without the glass covering the front of it. Looking at it you would nearly think you were in Berlin or New York rather than in a part of Dublin that was a no-go area ten or fifteen years ago. I had arrived far too early for the show (the tickets said doors opened at half six, but the gig wasn't starting till eight), so I sat around the foyer reading my new book. Five pages and twenty minutes later, I was exhausted. A crowd started to gather at this stage - loads of girls with nice haircuts and shoes. I went into the venue itself and sat down. It was a massive hall, and they had blocked mobile phone signal. I thought it was a nice touch. Roy Harper was the support act. I only knew him from that Led Zeppelin tune that referenced him, and I didn't know what to expect. He was pretty good. Joanna came on at around half nine or so. People who were sitting in the same aisle as me kept getting up and going to the bathroom, it drove me crazy. Either way, she mainly played tunes from her last album, which I loved. The sound was amazing too, way better than the last time in to the Olympia, and as good as the first time I saw her in London all those years ago. She had an incredible small group with her this time (guitar/banjo/recorder, two violins, trombone and drums) as well as a piano, so she was able to play a much wider range of tunes than before, and the album arrangements were really well performed. She came out for one encore, and I would have loved to have seen a second. Easily the best show I'd seen her do, I reckon.

Monto

2010-09-06T20:32:00.002+01:00

It feels like it's been a very busy weekend. The Electric Penguins were set to play in The Academy on Abbey Street on Friday night. We had a week of great rehearsals with a new drummer - Tony from Sack. I was worried we wouldn't have enough time to get through all the tunes with him, but he flew through all the stuff very quickly. Everyone felt very relaxed and at ease. On the day of the show we arrived at the venue with plenty of time, loaded in, and had a very easy soundcheck. There was good backline onstage waiting for us, and the sound engineer knew exactly what he needed to do without our complicated gear setup. It almost felt luxurious. We only had a couple of hours to wait before playing our set, so I hung out backstage and chilled out. There was a comfy sofa to relax on, and a poster on the wall of Liza Minelli looking pretty hot. We were sharing the room with The Keds, who were lovely guys. All in all, it was very nice. In no time at all, it was ten o'clock, and time for us to play. A pretty big crowd had gathered by this time, with a sizeable contingent of hot indie girls with short hair. I was really enjoying myself. We walked onstage, set up our equipment, and started playing. I don't know how it sounded to the audience, but the sound for me onstage was great. I felt so comfortable that my mind started to wander a little bit and I forgot to count in the drums when they were meant to come in, but it was only a minor slip-up. We only had a thirty minute set, so time absolutely flew by. The crowd seemed to like it, too.

On Saturday night, we had birthday celebrations for my friend Johnny who had turned 31 a few days previously. The plan was to head to Mulligan's for a few pints before heading off somewhere else. JFK and James Joyce had been there, and it was finally my turn to go. It's a nice place, just a traditional Dublin pub. It's just a pity Apollo House is on the far side of the street, destroying the view outside. After a few drinks there, we all headed down to the Gypsy Rose, a new rock bar on the quays. It was my first time there on a Saturday night, and the place was jammed. In the basement there was a dancefloor that was as slippery as ice for me and my Converse. I nearly fell on my ass walking across it, even though I was surrounded by loads of drunk people who apparently had no problems on it at all.

International Klein Blue

2010-08-04T15:49:00.000+01:00

I was sitting in my mate Dave's kitchen the other night, minding my own business, when all of a sudden - BANG! - a pigeon flew into the window, leaving behind small streaks of bird crap. I suppose I would do the same if I flew into a window at that speed. The poor little fellow walked around outside for a few minutes looking dazed before making a few awkward attempts at flying away. It seemed like a good idea for me to go out into the garden to help it fly away before the local feline community discovered it. So I went out and tried to coax the bird into flying, but every time it tried to fly, it ended up landing awkwardly in a bush. I tried to pick it up, but everytime I got close it scurried away under a bush where I couldn't reach it. Pigeons are surprisingly wily creatures. Hopefully that trait kept it safe from those cats.

I spent yesterday designing a cover for the Electric Penguins' new promo CD. It was a difficult enough process - there were loads of ideas floating around and it was hard to settle on just one. After running through a few ideas, we settled on a really simple cover... Only to find that the exact colour they wanted is outside the gamut of what computer screens and printers can accurately reproduce. Still, it looks nice.

Coffin Mistake

2010-08-02T14:48:00.000+01:00

I just realised that I didn't write a single blog for the entire month of July. Loads of things happened, I just didn't want to write about many of them. The first rule of writing a blog should be: don't put up anything you wouldn't be happy to have your mother read. It's a good rule. Not that my mother was the only person that I had to consider, or that I was involved in any serious debauchery or anything.

I suppose the main story of the past few weeks was that I bought a new phone. My old phone got a bit of a soaking in the rain, and stopped working. Random numbers started to appear on the screen, and I couldn't dial any numbers or enter my PIN code or anything. This had happened before, but the phone finally seemed to be beyond repair. I'd been having problems with it for ages, anyway. So the next day, I went and bought an LG Android phone. It took me five minutes to figure out how to put credit on it for the first time, it's very different from the Nokia system that I'm used to. Texting took a couple of days to figure out. But once I realised how well it syncs up with my Google account, I was really impressed. I can admit that it's not as slick as an iPhone or whatever, but I can get along fine with it.

I've also been revisiting my Curb Your Enthusiasm DVDs lately; it's find it much easier to watch the second time round. My mother has even started to get into it, and she'll join me for an episode or two. It's a bit painful watching some of the scenes with her though - the other night we watched a scene where there was hardcore porn showing on a TV in the background, with the sound the whole way up. I had to set my face in a mask of concentration not to look embarrassed.

Mute City

2010-06-28T14:52:00.000+01:00

I was in London the weekend before last to catch a show by the awesome Dysrhythmia who were over on a European tour. My flight over was in the afternoon, so I had plenty of time to get to the airport. I checked in and got through security very quickly, the place was empty. After looking around the duty free section, it was time to board the flight. My seat was next to a friendly old lady. She was English, but had moved over to Canada a few years ago for retirement. We struck up a conversation which was going fine until she started giving out about immigrants, despite being an immigrant herself. Luckily it was a short flight. As the plane came in over London, we flew over the Olympic building site. It looked very impressive from the air. The plane hit some serious turbulence coming in to Heathrow though, I thought I was going to be sick. I managed to get though the airport and onto a train and headed out to my hotel to check in. My room was small, but clean. Unlike the last time I was in London, the door also locked properly. The gig wasn't starting for a few hours, so I had time to head into town and have a look around. Loads of shops had closed in the last year, it was very strange. I suppose it's not very surprising, though.

The gig was in a venue called the Luminaire, in Kilburn. I had never been there before, so I left in plenty of time to make sure I wouldn't miss anything. I needn't have worried, I got there half an hour before the doors even opened. Still, better safe than sorry. I ended up being the first person in the venue, feeling pretty self-conscious. The Luminaire is a really amazing venue; signs on the walls tell people to be quiet when bands are playing, and you really get the impression that everyone who works there is into the music. There were amazing tunes being played over the PA as well, stuff that I'd never heard before. The first support band were Rocketnumbernine... Kinda improv electronic stuff. Really interesting, definitely the last thing I would have expected to see at a metal gig. The second band were called Nitkowski, and they were mostly instrumental hardcore kinda stuff. Really awesome tunes. Dysrhythmia came on at around ten o'clock or so, and were absolutely mind-blowing. There are thousands of bands doing the whole weird odd-metre thing at the moment, but Dysrhythmia have a sense of melody and interaction that none of them have. My jaw was absolutely on the floor from the first note to the last. I headed back to my room absolutely exhausted. I only realised how noisy the room was when I got into bed. People were shouting and screaming outside my window, and police sirens seemed to race past every few minutes. It was Saturday night, after all. I managed to get to sleep, only to be woken suddenly by the sound of someone screaming "STOP! HANDS UP!" It must have been a novelty car horn or something. I eventually got back to sleep, only to wake up after biting my tongue. The noise from outside must have been disturbing me in my sleep. It was really painful, and I was totally disorientated. I think it's safe to say that I didn't get a good night's rest.

I left the hotel early on Sunday morning and went to get some breakfast at this organic supermarket in Soho. I wandered around for a while looking for a nice pair of shoes before meeting my friend Catriona and going for a wander around north London. It was a really nice day for a stroll. We headed up to Hampstead Heath and Highgate, before heading back down towards Camden Town.

Camden's not as nice as it used to be. Either way, we went down to the markets to see what they had - the only two things that really stood out for me were seeing a woman in a pair of shockingly revealing hot pants, and seeing an old dude with about a hundred piercings all over his head, including the back of his scalp. Talk about being impractical. After that, it was time for me to brave the Tube back to the airport. I was looking forward to getting back to my quiet bedroom.

The Electric Penguins had a gig booked in the Odessa for last Friday night, so rehearsals started on the Monday, the morning after I got back from London. We were jamming in the studio at Blackpitts, where bodies were buried after epidemics of the bubonic plague in Dublin. The weather was stunning all week, so it was a pleasure to head out early and walk through town in the sun to work on the set. By the time of the gig, things were pretty well drilled. It was my first show playing synth bass, which was a lot of fun. Soundcheck was a bit worrying on the night - with all the equipment the band have, we ran out of channels on the venue's mixing desk. This meant that I had to manually switch cables between my bass and my synth between tunes, which was a headache. I couldn't hear much of what I was playing either. Miraculously, the sound cleared up for me when the show started. It turned out to be a lot of fun, definitely the best gig we've played together so far. The only downer on the night was that a non-alcoholic beer cost six euro at the bar.

5110

2010-06-14T22:15:00.000+01:00

My phone had a bit of a meltdown this week. It was all my fault, in a way. It started out when I had a few hundred text messages saved on it, back in November of last year or thereabouts. I was curious to see how many messages it could hold, so I didn't erase any that I got. Eventually I hit the 1,000 message mark, and my curiosity was sated. I tried clearing the messages, but the phone crashed after it cleared about forty or so. I didn't really care, so I just let the phone be, and the messages kept piling up. I signed up for free texts on Vodafone, which didn't help matters. About 1,000 messages a month started to fill my inbox. At this stage, the phone began to crash a lot more. Every time this happened, it took more and more time for the phone to start back up again. The other day, it took three quarters of an hour to start up after a crash. I couldn't go on. The obvious solution to the problem was to bring my phone to a Nokia repair shop, but I was worried that some bored tech nerd would end up reading through my messages, and I couldn't guarantee there wasn't anything incriminating in there. So I tried downloading Nokia software on to my Mac at home, only to find that the Mac version of the software is completely useless. The only other option was to download the PC version of the Nokia software, which looked a lot more powerful. After a couple of hours figuring everything out, I finally managed to get everything set up to erase the messages from my phone, only to find that the software couldn't do it for some reason. All I could do was update the phone's software, which would automatically format the phone. This in itself took two hours. I want an iPhone.

I had a strange gig last night - at a gospel mass in the SFX church on Gardiner Street. It was my third time at a mass in the last few weeks; three more than I had been to in the previous seventeen years. As an atheist, I was a little worried about what the night would be like and I felt a little uncomfortable actually taking part in a religious ceremony. Still, a gig is a gig is a gig. Everyone seemed nice, which put me a little at ease, but I still felt awkward. The first tune of the night was the original Candi Staton version of "You Got The Love". It's actually a pretty good tune, with a nice bassline which I spent a fair bit of time practicing. All that work was for nothing though - once the band came in, I completely forgot the feel of my part and I couldn't get my way back into it. I blame all the Catholic iconography that was around me - it was really distracting. It's hard to feel funky when the Stations of the Cross are right in front of you. There was another tune I played on which I don't remember the name of... I hit some low notes during the bridge and the acoustics of the church picked them up really well. It was really cheesy though, like something you'd hear at an American mega-church. Before I knew it, the mass was over and it was time for tea and some very nice biscuits. I got talking to some of the people from the choir and everyone was very friendly. I was terrified of being caught in a religious discussion, but it never came up and I was able to enjoy my biscuits in comfort.

The Man Who Hated Sheffield

2010-05-22T21:12:00.000+01:00

As you already know, I shaved my head last week. Afterward, everything went fine for the first few days, until I started to feel an itch on my scalp. I struggled not to scratch, but eventually bumps started to come up on my skin. Big, red, angry bumps. I went to a chemist in Ranelagh looking for advice, and I was given a bottle of menthol moisturiser to calm my skin down. I tried it, and while my skin felt less itchy than before, it didn't look much better. So when I was in town today, I went to another chemist for a second opinion. This time around, the chemist was much more thorough, and I came away with an anti-histamine, an anaesthetic cream to reduce the itching, and an anti-bacterial bar of soap. So far, so good. It's my friend Dave's birthday celebrations tonight, so it was eventually time to take a shower and get ready. It seemed like an opportunity to use all the new stuff I'd gotten from the chemist. So I stepped into the shower, and started using the bar of anti-bacterial soap. I was being very conscientious with it, making sure I washed behind my ears and everything. The soap smelled like hospitals though, I suppose it must be the same kinda stuff they use in surgical theatres. I was just after using the soap on my head, when some of the lather got in my eye. It was incredibly painful, and so I groped blindly in the shower for a towel or a cloth to wipe my eyes with. I couldn't find one. I knew I had a towel in the bathroom, just next to the shower, so I stepped out of the shower to grab it... Only to slide straight off my feet and end up naked on the tiled bathroom floor, banging my head off of the side of the shower and landing my arm inside of the toilet bowl in the process. And I still had that soap in my eyes.

The Seventh Proof

2010-05-21T15:58:00.000+01:00

It was a historic weekend - I went to my first wedding on Friday. My friend Mick, whose stag party I went to a few weeks ago, was tying the knot with the lovely Lynette. Being a big occasion, this meant that I had to make myself presentable. With that in mind, I shaved my head late on Thursday for the first time since January or so.

I forgot how nice it feels to be bald.

I woke up early on Friday morning feeling a little nervous. I don't know why - I wasn't the one getting married. Still, there was nothing to do but man up and get dressed. I felt much better when I was on my way to the ceremony in my suit with my head shaved. My shoes made a very satisfying clacking sound on the footpath as I walked. I met Mick and my friend H, who was best man, at the church. Everyone looked very dapper. My friend Dave turned up a minute or two later, also dressed to the nines. It was my first time seeing everyone in suits. Mine was the only one that wasn't black. The ceremony was interesting - it was my first time at a religious service since becoming an atheist all those years ago. The hymns were performed by a really incredible singer, it was beautiful. It's a shame you can't have that kinda thing at a civil wedding service. Still, even with all the religion, it was great being a witness to a defining point in my friend's life. I was there when Mick met his wife for the first time in Bruxelles, and I was there to see them get married nearly ten years later.

With the church ceremony over, there were buses to take us to the reception in the lavish surroundings of 10 Ormond Quay. I'd never seen a place like it. They had not one, but two Russian fireplaces dating from 1820. In the bathrooms, they had constantly replenished shelves of fresh handtowels for you to dry your hands with. Every detail was taken care of. It felt like we were all in our own private mansion; it was only when you walked outside that you realised you were on the quays, across the Liffey from Temple Bar. It was a world away from my last wedding party experience a few years back. The night ended at around half one or so, and I headed home. My feet were killing me.

I had a very productive jam with the band on Wednesday night. We got well in writing a new tune, and it was a lot of fun. After we wrapped up, I was off to the Woolshed ("Sports Baa and Grill") on Parnell Street for a going away party for my friend Liz. I was already roasting hot after being in the studio, but the pub was like an oven. They had a football match on huge screens, and the place was jammed. When the match was over, a Brazilian club night thing started. Everyone was up on the dancefloor giving it socks, except for me, obviously. Unfortunately I had to split for the last bus - I really miss midweek Nitelinks. Still, I managed to capture a bit of the old Nitelink atmosphere by sitting behind a middle aged couple who spent most of the journey French kissing vigorously in the seat in front of me.

On Thursday, I headed down to the Electric Penguins' studio in Ranelagh to do a little recording for an upcoming EP that they are releasing. I hadn't heard the music before, but there was an idea for a Jean-Michel Jarre kinda bassline, so that was what I played. The riff itself wasn't very hard, but it was very difficult to play it and keep the notes as uniform as possible. It felt like I was playing for hours, but when I listened to the playback, the part was only about two minutes long. I suppose it's true what they say about watched pots.

I heard today that 3 Crosses - a film that the band make an appearance in, and are on the soundtrack of - is premiering next month in Dun Laoghaire. I think we first heard about the whole project in 2002 or thereabouts. The wrap party was four years ago. Since filming ended, one of the cast has become a WWE champion. After all this time, I'm just curious to see how I'll look on the big screen.

The Giddy Goose

2010-05-09T18:07:00.000+01:00

It was a bit of an odd day yesterday. I went out to X Music at the Red Cow with my brother Joe to look at some effects pedals, namely a looper. It's something I've been thinking about lately. After asking a shop assistant for a little assistance, I finally got set up... Only to be put right next to a bunch of kids who were wailing away horribly on a guitar. Everything I played sounded terrible with all the noise, so I gave up and hopped on a Luas back into town. As we approached the city centre, the now obligatory homeless person stumbled on and caused a bit of ruckus. I wasn't too close to the guy, but I think he upset a woman on the tram because she got off at the Four Courts, walked very calmly behind a ticket machine, and started to get sick.

We got home about an hour later. I had plans to meet my friend Laura to hang out and grab a quick coffee in Dun Laoghaire before heading into town to play a gig with the band. I took a quick shower, found a black t-shirt, and headed out. It was a gorgeous early summer afternoon; the sun was shining and the skies were blue. The tranquillity of the moment was shattered when I turned into the laneway out of my estate to find a girl hitching up her jeans next to a very suspicious looking puddle of liquid. She avoided making eye contact with me as I walked past, trying not to get my shoes wet. I wonder what I would have come across if I turned the corner fifteen or twenty seconds earlier. I made it safely down to Dun Laoghaire in the end, and I hung out with Laura for a little while, just catching up. I left at five o'clock, planning to hop on a bus into town to shift gear to the venue. I figured the journey should take about twenty five minutes. An hour later, I was still waiting at the bus stop. I nearly would have been faster walking to the venue, as I arrived an hour and a half after setting out.

The gig was at The Pint on Eden Quay, where we played in March, with Xerosun. I had a feeling that things were going to be difficult when I realised that there was no proper sound engineer on board. As Xerosun were soundchecking, I had to give some advice to sort out an issue with the sound. Talk about a bad omen. By the time it was our turn to soundcheck, things were getting very messy. Having three guitar players can make any stage feel a little small, but with the layout of the gear it was positively cramped onstage. There was no monitor for me either, meaning I could only hear a little bass and the drums. Easily the worst onstage sound I'd ever heard. Things went from bad to worse when we got up to play. The crowd's reaction was a mixture of boredom and hostility. It didn't help that we sounded nothing at all like the other bands on the bill. There was even heckling from the crowd. I felt absolutely disgusted. There was nothing to do but get on with the job at hand, struggling with awful sound and audience antipathy. At the end of the last song, I threw my bass on the ground and walked off.

Operation Motorman

2010-05-06T16:16:00.000+01:00

I was in Derry on Sunday with the DIT Big Band, for the Derry Jazz and Big Band Festival. I had been looking forward to the gig all week - I love playing in new places, and Derry has a lot of interesting history about it. To arrive in time for a rehearsal and soundcheck at twelve o'clock, we had to leave Dublin at eight o'clock in the morning. The journey was kinda strange; maybe it was the early morning exhaustion, but nobody really spoke on the way. I entertained myself by looking out the window. It's a pity that the drive isn't particularly interesting. By eleven o'clock or so, the bus rolled into Derry an hour ahead of schedule. The venue were were playing in was still closed, so I went for a wander around the town with a few of the other musicians in search of a decent cup of coffee. Most of the shops were still shuttered - the only places we found that were open were a McDonald's and a pub on the main square. Not even the local Starbucks opened until two o'clock. I felt very far from Dublin. A helpful security guard pointed us in the direction of a cafe that was open, so we headed there. It was a really rustic greasy spoon, like something from Intermission. I ordered a "cappuccino" which came with whipped cream on top instead of foam. I suppose that's a pretty middle-class complaint to make, isn't it?

We went back to the venue afterward to find that it had just opened. It was a really amazing place, the BBC had awarded it £4.5 million to cover the costs of refurbishment. Everything was top-notch, definitely the nicest venue I'd ever played in.

We set up for a soundcheck and rehearsal, and ran over a few tunes. Everything sounded much better than at the gig the week before, I was very pleased. Before I knew it, it was time to play. A queue had already formed for the show, and when we walked onstage to play, all the seats were full. It was nice to play to a proper audience, and they really seemed to enjoy themselves. There were a few mistakes here and there, but I don't think anyone really cared. It's all part of the buzz anyway. After the gig the band quickly took down the gear and headed to the pub for some food and a few pints. I took this opportunity to do some exploring - I really wanted to get a picture of the Free Derry Wall while I could. It's a really interesting place to visit for anyone with an interest in recent radical Irish history. I got reliable directions from someone who worked at the venue and headed over. Derry being the small place that it is, it was only a five minute walk, just outside of the city walls. The area was a bit forbidding though - there was broken glass and empty flagons of Strongbow all over the ground and gangs of surly looking dudes walking around in Celtic jerseys. As I was walking up to the wall itself, I heard the noise of a man slapping his child from fifty metres away over the noise of passing traffic. Pretty grim. At least I got my picture.

I had a dream last night that I was in a park, going to play some jazz with some musicians I know. There was sheet music for the song we were going to play, and went fine until I came to a page in the music where there were drawings of people instead of notes. I don't know what it all means.

Tonight some of the boys and I have the first rehearsal of our Pantera tribute - Dime-ination - in years. I think the last time we played together might have been 2006; I honestly don't remember. We're starting off playing just guitars and bass, making sure we get every details absolutely note for note. It's great to play some of those parts again - Rex Brown must be the most under-rated metal bass player ever. I have big plans for this year's festivities, like getting some new tunes into the set-list. There are still some classics that we never touched. Hopefully we'll get to play around Ireland too, I reckon we could pack out a lot of venues. I suppose time will tell.

Una Corda

2010-04-24T19:45:00.000+01:00

I've been neglecting the blog again.

Last Saturday I ventured out to the Irish Museum of Modern Art in Kilmainham to catch a performance of Morton Feldman's Triadic Memories with my friend So-young. I wasn't really sure what to expect, I'm not too familiar with Feldman's music. I arrived at seven o'clock to find a large enough crowd drinking wine and waiting for the concert to begin. So-young was at a rehearsal for a gig and texted me that she would be late, and by the time she arrived the crowd had already gone into the concert hall. We followed them in, but the door was looked. Undeterred, she simply unlatched the door and we snuck in quietly, taking two free seats in the front row. I wonder if all Koreans are that assertive.

The concert pianist came out with the score for the piece, and said a few words to provide some background. I didn't realise that all the music was in one ninety-minute movement. He sat down at the piano, opened the sheet music, made himself comfortable, and started to play. I couldn't believe how soft everything was. Every noise in the room felt incredibly loud in comparison: windows creaking, the sound my jacket made as I moved in my seat. The pianist didn't have an assistant to turn the pages of the score as he played, every time he reached for it I worried the book would drop to the floor and interrupt the flow. By the end of the ninety minutes, I thought I was going to start hallucinating. One of the greatest experiences of my life, without a doubt. The Irish Times gave it a good review too. So-young and I walked by the river back into town afterward, we needed time to digest what we had just seen. It was nice to hang out again, it had been too long.

I went back to the museum with my mother and my brother Joe the next day to see an exhibit of art connected with Feldman. There was a Pollock and two Rothkos in one of the rooms alone. It was incredible. A collection of Feldman's scores was also on display, it was really interesting to see how he notated his ideas. I only wish I had gone to see the exhibition before I went to hear the music. I might go back, you could really spend hours reading through essays or listening to music.

The other big event of the week was the my first gig with the DIT Big Band, which was last night in DIT Kevin Street. We've been preparing now for a few months, and a guest conductor arrived yesterday morning from England for the show. Unfortunately, this meant that we had to spend hours rehearsing with him. We started at half ten, went till quarter to one, took a break till two, worked until half three, and then took a three hour break before setting up for the show itself. I didn't have enough time to get home from town and back again, so I had to hang around for a few hours killing time. I must have spent an hour just ambling around Hodges Figgis looking at books. It felt like an eternity. Eventually half six rolled around, and it was time to set up. It was strange onstage - there were no microphones used for any of the instruments onstage, so the only way to hear myself was by sitting directly next to my amp. I was sandwiched between the brass section and the drums, so anything else was completely inaudible. The show itself was fine, bar a few small mistakes here or there. My unaccompanied solo at the start of the Kenny Wheeler tune we played went fine, although the conductor nearly led the band in before I was ready. After the tune finished, he credited everyone else who had taken a solo but me. Christ, he even credited people who hadn't taken one. A lesser man would have been insulted.

Tomorrow is my friend H's birthday, so tonight we're out celebrating. I suppose I should go get ready.

Táin Bó Cúailnge

2010-04-13T14:26:00.002+01:00

The t-shirts I ordered for the band arrived last week, in plenty of time for our gig with The Ocean in Fibber's on Friday night.

I was pretty happy with them until I set up the merch stall at the gig, next to some professionally designed shirts. My favourites were for Neifenbach from Galway, who had shirts designed by Ryan Patterson from Coliseum:

I was so impressed that I bought one. The small male shirts were all sold out, so I made do with a large women's size.

The gig itself was ok. I don't think it had been particularly well promoted, so there might have been about a hundred people there overall, and it seemed like most of them spent their time hanging out in the smoking area. It was a real shame, all the bands who played were great. How often do you hear me say that? At least I was lucky enough to get to use an amazing rig onstage - an Ampeg SVT head going through a Crown power amp into an Ampeg 8x10" cabinet. The tone out of it was absolutely incredible, maybe the best setup I've ever used. Unfortunately, because of time constraints, we only got a line check onstage. Of course, this meant that I could hardly hear a note I played for the whole show. Par for the course for Fibber's, though. The set was only twenty five minutes long, so we rushed through a few tunes. It took a lot out of me though, we haven't been jamming a lot lately and my stamina isn't great. Still, people seemed to enjoy themselves, and we sold seven shirts - forty three more, and we break even. We even got our first good review on Metal Ireland:

Eyesclosed. Was expecting super violent band. Don't know why. The Nevermore-like riffage with the clean Evergrey-ish voice was a very good surprise though. I would not reduce their music only to that but I appreciated it

I don't really know Nevermore or Evergrey, but I suppose it's something.

On Saturday, I headed to my very first stag party, for my friend Mick who was the first drummer of many in the band. I suppose I'm getting to the age now where friends are starting to get married or whatever. The shindig was being held up in Carlingford, on the Cooley Peninsula past Dundalk, next to Carlingford Lough. I'd never been to that neck of the woods before, it's pretty far off the beaten track. Myself, Dave and Hytham were all going up, and it was nice to spend time with our friend on his last big night out as a single man. My only regret about the night was that we had played the gig the night before - my head felt like it weighed twice as much as usual. I had to take a break from the festivities for an hour or so in my hotel room, where I watched a documentary about Japanese midget submarines in World War 2. Really interesting stuff. After recharging my batteries, it was back down to the pub. It was a pretty civilised night, to be honest. Nobody got too drunk and crazy. We ended up in a disco above one of the two pubs in the town, it was packed. I can never get used to seeing guys dance though, it always looks wrong to me. By about one o'clock, I started to fade out and I headed back to my room to catch some sleep. By this time the hotel nightclub had opened, right beneath my room. The place was practically vibrating with the noise seeping through the floor. There was no point attempting to get to sleep; the noise was just too much - it even drowned out the TV. At two o'clock the national anthem was played, and the club closed. I had to laugh - I'd heard about country pubs playing the anthem at the end of the night, but I'd never witnessed it myself. Still, at least it was quiet enough to sleep afterward.

I woke up the next morning and went on a wander, looking for a copy of the Observer and a decent coffee. It was a gorgeous day, and I ended up by the shore of Carlingford Lough. It was really stunning.

I got talking to an old man who told me about some of the history of the area, and I saw the ruins of a Norman castle dating from 1210. It was really great, I'd definitely go back.

Moscow-Petushki

2010-03-28T19:30:00.000+01:00

I've been working on t-shirts for the band for the last month, it's been a difficult process. It took a lot of time to get the idea for them into something workable, and then it took some more time to pick colour schemes... Finally, after much deliberation, I sent the files off to the printer on Tuesday.

If all goes well, they'll look good - it's going to be between six and ten working days before we get the shirts back, though, so I suppose we'll see then. The olive on black colour scheme is my favourite. It still looks "metal" or whatever, but it's not as typical as the standard white on black. I just hope the small size fits me, although I suppose it is a little lame to wear your own band's t-shirt.

Over the week, I had a slight cold. It was nothing really, I shook it off after a few hours. As it cleared I felt a slight pain in my ear, and that subsided very quickly too. I didn't give it anymore thought, until I noticed an unusual sensation in my left ear, like it was filling up with something. Sounds were very muffled through it too, and I had a ringing sensation that went through the left side of my head. It became progressively worse, until finally I went to the doctor yesterday. I was terrified that I had done some permanent damage to my ear after years of playing in loud rehearsal rooms. It turned out to be just an ear infection, and I was put on antibiotics. Talk about a relief. My ear is still bothering me, but at least I know that in a few days it should be cleared up. I'm just going to steer clear of my iPod for now.

Last night I went to see my friend and musical compatriot H play with Lluther in the Button Factory in town. I hadn't been there since the Electric Penguins show a few months back. I had walked past the venue early in the morning and I saw film and lighting crews setting up, so I had a feeling it was going to be a pretty big event. The stage was laid out in a very unusual way, with a massive lighting rig behind it. It looked amazing. There was a great crowd for the show too, I was really pleased. The band played along with a click, so everything was super tight. It gave me a lot of food for thought about my own future gigs. After the gig finished, there was a club on. A girl walked in wearing what looked like bikini bottoms and high heels. It felt like I was in a different world. My ear was getting sore, so I left for home.

Today I went with my mother and brother to the monthly flea market at Newmarket Square in town. My mother bakes incredible scones and cakes, and I thought she might be interested in selling some of them there. She found a stall selling very nice brooches and was browsing through them when I realised that she was standing right next to my ex-girlfriend Julia, who has been super-awkward with me since we split. I suppose I shouldn't really have been that surprised to find her there, she was the one who introduced me to the market in the first place. Not looking to cause any kind of scene, I scuttled over to hide out at a stall selling old vinyl; the only interesting things I found were some ancient Soviet classical recordings with illegible Russian covers. It was cool to be holding a genuine Soviet artifact in my hand, even if I had no idea what was on it. We eventually got away without incident and went to see what else the market had to offer. It was really packed, I suppose with the recession still biting people want to save a little money on things. One stall was selling "home-made homeless" candles. They didn't sound too great.

The Dance of the Seven Veils

2010-03-21T14:12:00.000Z

I went out to see The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo in the cinema yesterday, with my friend Chantal. The last time I saw her was a few years ago, when I was coming out of the library in town with a massive plastic sack of books for my college essay on Stravinsky. She went travelling around the world for a while and I didn't get to see her, so it seemed like a great chance to catch up. It was a vicious film, not at all what I was expecting. Some of the scenes were really eye-watering, I could see why it got an 18 certificate. My granny read the book that the film was based on, I wonder if she understood what was going on.

Presque Vu

2010-03-12T19:03:00.001Z

I went to see A Single Man with my friend Shawna last night, in the Screen. God, I love that place. It's been refurbished since the last time I was there, they even sell red wine now. The movie itself was really great, too. You could tell it was directed by a fashion designer; everything was very polished and stylish, and it seemed that there were impossibly pretty guys everywhere to be seen. Shawna appreciated that part a lot. We went for a quick drink in Doyle's across the road afterward. I'd blown all my money on popcorn and Shawna was pretty broke too, so we ended up just getting two Cokes and sitting down for a few minutes. The floor staff were acting really strangely towards us, like they didn't want us to be there. One of the guys took my glass even though I wasn't quite finished yet. It really wasn't pleasant, so we left. I don't think I'll go back to that place. I walked her back to her gaff before going home. At one stage, we were talking about actor Wil Wheaton - I couldn't remember the name of a film he starred in with River Phoenix. I knew the title was from a song, I knew the plot was based on a story by Stephen King... I just couldn't remember what it was called. For a second, I thought Robert DeNiro was in it, but I was thinking of another movie. It was on the tip of my tongue for half an hour at least. Then, in a fit of inspiration, I remembered - Stand By Me. What a relief.

I was in town again today, for band practice. Unfortunately, it was cancelled after I had made my way in, but things worked out for the best. The new issue of Bass Player magazine was out, so I was able to pick it up. Also, as I was walking through Temple Bar on the way to the studio to pick up my gear on the way home, I happened across a second hand record sale. I was curious to see what they had, so I popped in... And found an original 1983 Kraftwerk Tour De France 12". I nearly died. For the sum of ten euro, it was mine.

Isn't she beautiful? I don't even care that I don't really have a record player.

Have One On Me

2010-03-09T13:32:00.000Z

The weekend got off to a great start - I finally got my hands on the new Joanna Newsom album. I'm still working my way through it, there's three CDs of music to listen to. The band had a gig on Saturday night, in The Pint on Eden Quay. It was the first post-recession Dublin gig we'd organised for ourselves that wasn't in Fibber's, and I was feeling a little nervous about the whole thing. Say what you want about Fibber's as a venue, but there is practically a guarantee of a crowd there, which is something you can't say for any other venue in the city. We had arranged to move gear from our studio at three o'clock to give ourselves plenty of time to set up and soundcheck before we opened the doors at half seven. Things felt almost leisurely - until we arrived at the venue to find there was an all-ages gig already happening. We were all shocked, our original plan for the afternoon was to load up at two o'clock in the afternoon to set up a PA system, and now we wouldn't be able to start soundchecking until seven o'clock, half an hour before doors were meant to open for the show. There must have been two or three hundred kids in the place, all going apeshit; it was like being caught in a live-action episode of Skins. We cordoned off an area at the back of the room for our gear and started to load up through the crowd. Nobody would move out of our way. There was nothing to do but wait with the gear.

After three excruciating hours of listening to a bunch of teenage bands struggling with Kings of Leon covers, the room cleared and we finally got to start setting up. Things started disastrously: the house engineer was pretty inexperienced and could hardly set up the microphones. Luckily for us, we had brought our own engineer - the one and only Dave Best - who expertly fixed all the problems we were encountering. Within a few minutes, he had the stage sounding great, and I could hear everything I needed. Talk about victory snatched from the jaws of defeat. With soundcheck finished, I set up at the door to collect money from people as they came in. The place was pretty empty at this stage, and I wasn't feeling very optimistic about attendance. Slowly, people started to drift in: one at a time, then two, then the occasional group of friends. By the time we went on to play, there was about a hundred people in the place. I was pretty pleased with the turnout, especially considering there were only a few weeks of promotion.

The gig itself was a lot of fun. We had only played our set a few times since the last gig we had, so things were every so slightly ragged, but I think there was a lot of energy onstage to make up for the lack of tightness. The crowd really got into it too. The set was over before one o'clock, and the van arrived to pick up the gear half an hour later. It was all very orderly, nothing like the end of the average night in Fibber's. By two o'clock, I was with everyone in Thomas Read's on Dame Street, having a non-alcoholic Erdinger in my sweat-drenched clothes. It's nice to wind down like that after a gig, it makes the whole experience more enjoyable. By three o'clock, I was on a bus home, listening to Joanna Newsom.

Unfortunately, Sunday was a complete waste. I was so stiff after the gig that I could hardly move. I really need to do more stretching before I play from now on.

Monday was rehearsal day with the big band... We have our first gig together next month, and we're working hard on getting a set together in time. A bunch of new charts have been coming in over the last few weeks - Don Ellis, Pat Metheny, Thad Jones... We're also doing Kenny Wheeler's "Gentle Piece" from his Music For Large and Small Ensembles album, which is a favourite of mine. It's a really nice tune, and I get an open solo at the beginning of it. Fun, fun, fun.

I had a dream last night that I had loosened one of my teeth with my tongue - it was my upper right canine. I remember very clearly. After a bit of prodding, the tooth fell out of my mouth. I tried to get someone to wire it back in, but I was told it was very painful and expensive. At some stage, I looked into a mirror and smiled, and I looked like a toothless hillbilly. I was horrified, I thought I might never be able to open my mouth again. When I woke up, there were a few seconds where I thought the dream was real.

In the Garden of Eden

2010-03-04T19:58:00.000Z

I had a really easy recording session for the Electric Penguins this afternoon. There was one track that needed bass before their album goes to be mastered, and I was going to do it. The only tricky part at all was a four-bar solo section that I normally improvise live. The chords are ever so slightly awkward, so I spent a few minutes at home earlier brushing up on a few ideas I had. When it was time to actually get to work, all I needed to do was plug in and play. My first complete take was the one we used, I had a slight false start at the very beginning - G♯ minor is a strange key, after all. The bass sounded great straightaway, without any EQ and with only a little analogue compression. The whole process took maybe ten minutes or so. Why can't it all be that easy?

In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida

2010-03-04T12:29:00.000Z

My friend Shawna's mother is over from the States visiting for a week or so, yesterday was my first time meeting her. We had a whole day to explore the city, and Shawna was really interested in seeing the crypts of St. Michan's Church near the Four Courts, so we headed up there; I was surprised that I had never heard of the place before. We found it easily enough, it's the church that gives Church Street its name. We paid our four euro admission fee in a creepy little office before being met by our tour guide. There was a slightly macabre air about him, but I got the feeling that the bulk of the visitors (who seemed to be Americans) kinda enjoyed it. The tour started with a trip into one of the burial chambers under the church - it was built nine hundred years ago, before the Normans landed here. Crazy! I thought about all the things that must have happened right where I was standing. It felt very strange. There were some mummified bodies on display, and we were allowed to touch the thumb of one of them for good luck. It felt smooth, not like what I expected. The guide told us it was the remains of a crusader from eight hundred years ago. God, I hope that's true. The tour continued into a second crypt which held the remains of some rebels from the 1798 Rising, and the death mask of Wolfe Tone. The guide told us he died by suicide in prison as he faced execution by drawing and quartering. They never taught us that in school. Talk about four euro well spent.

Hansel and Regretel

2010-03-01T13:14:00.002Z

I had a very cultural weekend. As part of a film festival here in Dublin, I went to see a couple of Polish films. They were both set in the communist era, which I found really interesting. The first movie - Reverse - was being shown in the new Lighthouse cinema in Smithfield; it's a very impressive place. I was there with my friend Małgorzata and her sister Anna. It was my first time in that part of town, I think it's the only place in the city that I had never been to before. The film was a very black comedy set in early 1950s Warsaw; the audience was howling with laughter over some scenes that you would never see in a mainstream Western film. I really enjoyed it. Afterward, the director came out for a Q and A session. A woman asked the director a question about a sex scene in the film - she was shocked that people were laughing at what she considered to be a rape. I was a shocked in turn that she thought it was a rape scene. Yeah, it was a little rough, but this was communist-era Poland - I don't think many people were having sex by candlelight in romantic bedrooms with Sade playing in the background. So I asked the director if he thought it was a rape scene, and I explained how I thought it wasn't. I could feel the eyes of every woman in the room burning through the back of my head. He was pretty non-committal in his response, like a real diplomat. I must have looked like such a misogynist.

We headed to The Cobblestone for pints afterward. I had heard about the place, but I had never been before. It's a really great little pub, not sanitised like so many places you see around now. It felt like there were gorgeous girls with great haircuts at every table. They also have a very interesting selection of beer - I had a non-alcoholic Baltika.

It was my first experience with a Russian consumer product, and I have to say that I enjoyed it.

Małgorzata and I caught another Polish movie on Sunday - All That I Love. This time the scene was Poland in 1981, after the beginning of the Solidarity movement, and just before the imposition of martial law. The film revolved around the lives of a group of friends who had formed a punk band. The soundtrack was amazing, I thought it sounded completely authentic. It reminded me of my teenage years, listening to Puget Sound on my walkman.

Aquarius Records

2010-02-22T16:08:00.001Z

The band had a great jam on Friday night; it was our first time sitting down as a five-piece to get down to some writing. There is some interesting stuff going on, even a hint of psychedelia. There was only one disagreement, between our drummer Matt and I, over an absolutely tiny section of a riff. Everyone seemed a little shocked at how adamant I was, but I'm a creature of habit and I have a logic that I like applying to things. I suppose I'll have to try to be a bit more flexible when it comes to such matters in the future, even though I find it very difficult.

After the jam was over, I headed up to my least favourite pub in Dublin - Whelan's - to meet my friend Jessica who was in Dublin for one night. She brought me an amazing limited edition t-shirt designed by Justin Bartlett, black metal artist extraordinaire:

I was well impressed. Whelan's is still as hellish as ever though. True to form, the same things seem to happen every time I go there at the weekend:

The DJ plays "Blister in the Sun" by the Violent Femmes. This is as inevitable as the sun rising. In fact, the DJ has already played it next weekend, you just haven't heard it yet.
Some thuggish Liam Gallagher wannabes give me the eye as they walk past. Lip rings, skulls on t-shirts, any reason will do.
Any girl who I am talking to wants to dance, even though I never ever dance.

Yesterday, I headed out to Ikea with my friend Shawna again, this time to pick up some curtains and stuff for her new gaff. It was just as busy as last time. I managed to pick up some little gifts for the family: a plant and an earthenware pot for my mother's office, a tiny little stuffed panda bear for my granny, and some Swedish meatballs for my bro. For myself, I bought some little shower puffs. It was a good day's shopping.

This morning, I finished off the poster for the band's gig on the 6th of March. We only completed the lineup over the weekend, it was a big relief.

Now we just need people to come.

Jerry Fletcher

2010-02-17T18:59:00.007Z

There was a heated band practice last night, as Hytham, Dave and I had a discussion about the "Freeman-on-the-land" movement that H has recently become interested in. I tried doing some research, but for all the talk of birth certs signed with capital letters and admiralty law and quotes from legal dictionaries, there's not a lot of sober information from unbiased sources available on the topic. And by "not a lot", I mean nothing. Here's a sample quote from one website:

What is the benefit to claiming Freeman-on-the-Land status?
You can choose to be governed by a whole stack of statutes, regulations and by-laws that you are incapable of understanding or you can choose to be free of those.
If you can’t see that benefit I can’t help you.

The Citizens Information Board (who helped me a few years ago when someone threatened to sue me) have no information:

Christ, you can't even find anything about it on Wikipedia, although they do helpfully refer to Brehon law as "void of legal significance and of historical interest only." Some might call this a conspiracy. Especially conspiracy theorists.

Eventually we actually got down to practicing, and things went well. We got a lot of work done on a new tune idea that had been floating around for a while. It's pretty wild. The band have a gig in a few weeks in a new venue called The Pint, on Eden Quay. It'll be nice to play at a decent hour for once. I have a nice poster almost ready for it, I'm really pleased with how it turned out.

When I got home, I finally finished watching Dexter. Heavy stuff. I think I got through the fourth season in four sittings, three episodes at a time. I don't know what TV show I'll watch next. Battlestar Galactica is looking pretty tempting, especially considering the whole series is on Blu-Ray in the next room. Decisions, decisions.

A Streetcar Named Marge

2010-02-07T17:19:00.003Z

It was my friend Shawna's long-delayed housewarming last night, only a month after she moved into her new gaff in town. For me, the party started on the bus on the way in, when a horrible alcoholic homeless dude got on. There was a girl sitting alone across the aisle from me in a miniskirt, and it was with a strong sense of inevitability that I saw him lurch towards her, like a zombie in search of fresh brains. He stood only a few inches away, well within her personal space, and started mumbling stuff. She looked really uncomfortable. Now, I have been on the receiving end of unwanted attention from older guys on the bus before, so I know how horrible it can feel. So I asked him what the hell he thought he was doing, and I told him he should get back to the front of the bus. He turned to me with his horrible breath and started giving me a typically repetitive drunken spiel: "You don't tell me what to do, I tell you what to do... So shut up. You can't tell me what to do, I tell you..." This went on for a few minutes. Eventually, he challenged me to get off the bus and fight him. Tempting, but no thanks; I had places to be. For reasons unclear, my left hand TOUCHED his filthy coat at some stage. I could feel the germs climb on to my skin. Eventually he just moved away and sat on the steps near the front of the bus, staring at me and making comments I couldn't hear before getting off a few stops later. My hand still felt like it had leprosy on it; all I could think about was getting to Shawna's gaff and washing the disease away. As I got to the lift up to her apartment, what did I find? A hand sanitiser. I could have kissed it.

Sterilised and refreshed, I finally made my entrance to the party. It was pretty cool, there was a nice mix of people I knew and people I didn't. Like the songs says, a stranger is just a friend you haven't met. There were some explicit stories (and a re-enactment or two courtesy of yours truly), conversations about art and sex and gender, good tunes, chocolate biscuits, and Coke for non-drinkers. With the central location of the flat, I was two minutes' walk from the Nitelink afterward. Good times.

A Small Good Thing

2010-02-05T23:05:00.004Z

I stopped into my friend Bren's tea shop for a quick cuppa with Johnny on the way into practice tonight... The shop stocks a wide variety of exotic teas (about 180, actually) from all over the world, and Johnny had a pot of this strange Brazilian tea ready-made, so I had a cup or two. I'm not normally a tea drinker (it just tastes like leaves to me, obviously), but this was nice stuff. It had a sweet aftertaste, not unlike caramel. Bren mentioned that it would give me a "kick up the arse", and like a fool I thought that he meant that it would be invigorating. Wrong. Within a few minutes, I felt like I was falling asleep; I hardly wanted to leave the tea shop. By the time I got the studio a little later I felt like I was lapsing into semi-consciousness, like that time I took Nurofen Cold and Flu a few years ago. I ended up going for a coffee to try and wake me up, but it did nothing. I could have climbed onto the little table we were sitting at and fallen asleep. I don't know what was in that stuff.

The Dark Passenger

2010-02-01T21:33:00.000Z

The band played Fibber's on Saturday night. The night followed pretty much the same routine as every other gig there: lift heavy gear, arrive early for soundcheck, wait for a few hours with nothing to do, play gig, wait for a few more hours soaked in sweat, carry more gear back to the studio through a drunken crowd, struggle to make last Nitelink home at 4 AM. There were two main differences about this show, however:

1./ The place was packed to the rafters. Probably the biggest crowd I'd played to in Fibber's since the first Dime-ination show a few years back.
2./ This was my first metal gig with my new bass, Erin O'Connor. It was great to be able to play without my shoulder going numb. Natalie, my old Warwick six-string bass, weighs fourteen pounds. Erin weighs less than nine. She sounded pretty good too.

The gig itself was OK. My vocal mic died after the first song, but I don't think anybody really wanted to hear me sing anyway. I felt sick as a dog afterward, though. Luckily we won't be playing there again for a while.

Sunday was a complete waste, I woke up at around eleven or so and hardly had the energy to get out of bed for a coffee. I think I literally hung around on the computer for most of the day, only moving to watch a few episodes of Dexter. I've gotten as far as season 3 now, it's getting very tense.

7 Reece Mews

2010-01-26T15:11:00.008Z

The week began on a very cultural note; the Hugh Lane Gallery on Parnell Square have concerts every Sunday at midday, and Ronan Guilfoyle's new trio were playing. It was a really great place for a gig, there was a Monet hanging on the wall next to me as I listened. Unfortunately, there was one sour note - I left my hat behind on my way out.

I asked the security guards if they had seen it, but to no avail. Maybe one of them took it for himself. Could you blame them?

A few friends and I have started a jam session in Walton's on Wednesday mornings. Anybody who wants to come can, and we play whatever tunes people want to play. It's really nice to just mess around and experiment with things. This week things were very interesting: we only had one sax, drums, and two basses. It reminded me of Ornette Coleman's band that I went to see last summer. I was a bit worried about how to deal with the two basses situation at first, but I decided to just play chords high up the neck and see how that worked. It turned out to be a lot of fun, and really interesting. For once I could lay out whenever I liked, and I could play solos over basslines. It made it very easy to hear alterations and stuff like that. With a bit of work, I'd nearly try sticking together a little quartet with that kinda lineup.

The Hot Press review of the Electric Penguins gig last week came out this week. I wasn't expecting it so quickly. I haven't got a scan or anything of it, but there was a huge picture from the show (you can only see the back of my head, though) and the review was pretty glowing. Pete Doherty was the only other live act to get a big picture, while Bryan Adams languished beneath us at the bottom of the page. Good times.

I also set up another blog this week - I realised that I had loads of posters and artwork from years of doing posters for gigs, so I thought it would be cool to stick them up, if only for posterity. You can find it here.

Rainbow Rapids

2010-01-23T19:27:00.009Z

Another busy week; sometimes it's hard to remember everything that happened. Last weekend was pretty quiet. My scalp started acting up again after shaving, so I stayed in on Saturday night. This is becoming more and more of a regular occurrence, I'm going to have to do something. I'm thinking about getting an electric razor. With time to kill, I was able to spend some time practicing with my charts for the DIT big band.

It's really good practice for me, I haven't had to do a whole lot of music reading in a while. The rehearsal itself went pretty well, much better than my first time with them. It was good to have some time with the parts before. We have some gigs coming up, and there's a guest conductor coming over. It'll be an adventure, I suppose, but I still don't know what a "bomba" is.

Sunday was a pleasant day, I ended up heading down to Dun Laoghaire for a stroll by the sea with Dave, Johnny, his girlfriend Angelika, her American friend David, and our good friend Dunner. We ended up walking the whole way down to Dalkey and back, it was very relaxing. Angelika had very thoughtfully packed some tangerines, so I ate one as we walked past the Forty Foot. I could smell it for the rest of the day. David is a very interesting character; he's the only guy I've ever met who had read City of Quartz by Mike Davis. I headed into town afterward to watch The Road in Cineworld with Shawna. Dave told me to be there in plenty of time before the film started, and I was glad I heeded his advice - there must have been a queue of five hundred people ahead of us. I was worried we wouldn't get tickets, but we managed to get in easily enough. The film itself is bleak as fuck, almost as bad as my favourite nuclear holocaust epic, Threads. I couldn't even finish my popcorn watching it.

The Electric Penguins had a few more rehearsals for the gig this week. It was all very relaxed, as always. The gig itself was pretty good, I think the best show we've had so far. There were a few hiccups during soundcheck - the backing track disappeared from the stage monitors at one stage, leaving us floating out of time with the music - but we had all these issues fixed by the time we went on to play. I think Hot Press were there to do a review and take some shots, hopefully they liked what they heard. Preparations for the Eyesclosed gig next week are also moving along nicely. I did my poster run for the show yesterday. My first stop was Read's on Nassau Street to collect posters I had sent for printing. The colour on them wasn't quite right (the red in the background turned out much more orange than I had intended), but they were OK for our purposes and I didn't have time to argue, so I left it. My second stop was Micromedia, who deal with putting posters up in awesome places around town that mere mortals can't reach. We had ordered a promotional run with them, and I needed to pay. Unfortunately, when I reached their offices at around four o'clock in the afternoon, I got no answer. I started to panic. I rang them on the phone, and got no answer. I went into the shop next door (an internet café), and asked if they knew when the offices normally closed. No idea. So I went into the other shop on the opposite side - Basic Instincts, a sex shop - to see if they had any clue. There were only two guys in the place; a man behind the counter, and some other dude browsing around the thong section. Luckily, before I had to say a word to anyone, a guy from Micromedia came in. He had seen me hanging around with posters and presumed I was looking for him. It turns out they were moving offices. All's well that ends well, I suppose.

Robert Childan

2010-01-14T15:59:00.005Z

With all the excitement about internet hate mail and snow, I completely forgot to mention that I saw Avatar the other night. I was feeling pretty sceptical about the film, because I'm not normally into big-budget productions, but I have to say that I loved it. Even the 3-D was amazing, it was very subtle but effective. I thought I saw burning embers falling on the head of the guy sitting in front of me in the cinema. I want to see The Road next, it's showing at the IFI in town. I'd read the book first, but I have seven or eight others to get through at the moment already and I don't want to add any more to the list.

It's been a busy few days anyway. I wrapped up my bass parts with Johnny the other day. One tune was a little slow at first, so we decided to re-record all the parts at a slightly brighter tempo. The guitars are really proggy sounding and strict, but the bass is deliberately kinda loose, with a Motown-ish kinda drum loop running under it. I'm listening back to a rough mix of what we have so far, and it reminds me a little of Sade. It'll sound different with live drums on top. The take we used for the bass track was done in one run straight through, I never would have done that a year or two ago. I'm going to record parts for some of my own music now in the next few weeks, hopefully it'll go as easily. The Electric Penguins have a gig next week, so we started jamming last night in their studio. The songs play themselves at this stage, so it was very easy to get back into the swing of things, even after a few months away. Eyesclosed also have a gig coming up in the next few weeks, in Fibber's with Red Enemy, Hero In Error and Torn By Tragedy. I drew up a poster for it the other day, but it was a little too tongue-in-cheek for the boys, so I had to go back to the drawing board. The second draft was more traditional, just gold on red. Either way, come to the show, it should be a laugh:

Fältjägarnas IF

2010-01-10T12:29:00.004Z

I got my very first internet hate mail the other day, in reference to this. It kinda felt like a badge of honour. It was from someone named "Anonymous", and it read:

Lets hope youv gotten over deirdre.please delete what you wrote about her on your wankers blog...ya knob

I would like to take a moment to thank Anonymous - if that is his or her real name - for their carefully considered response. But I'm not erasing anything.

I've spent the last few days hunkered in the studio with my good friend Johnny recording parts for some tunes he's written. The band moved into a new rehearsal room last month, which is fully equipped with a control room for recording and connections for microphones and such, so it seemed like a good place to do some work. I was glad to spent some time figuring out how everything works, I have a couple of tunes of my own that I want to record in the near future. We made the control room nice and cosy with some moody lighting and a halogen heater, and I got to knock out some parts over a couple of hours. It was very relaxed.

The cold snap that started on New Year's Eve has been hanging around ever since. I went to meet my da yesterday morning for a coffee in Ranelagh, and it was like being in Sweden all over again. Snow was falling more heavily than I've ever seen here, and it was powdery, not like the slush we normally get. On my way back into town I decided to walk rather than catch a Luas. It was really lovely. The streets were quiet and the air was clear.

It looks like there's a bit of a thaw happening today; heavy snow was forecast but it doesn't appear to be materialising. It's kind of a shame, I'm just getting used to it again.

The Perfect Fool

2010-01-04T22:22:00.003Z

I headed up to Belfast this morning to go jeans shopping. With the icy roads and traffic it was a long journey - three hours. Still, when I saw the signs advertising a sale in the Levi's shop in Victoria Square I felt that I had made a good move. Unfortunately, the shop only had two pairs of my jeans in my size and one of them was an awful shade of light grey. Still, getting one pair of jeans is a million times better than getting no pairs of jeans. I had time to kill until the next bus back to Dublin, so I headed for a coffee to stay warm. Everything went pretty swimmingly until I went to the bathroom on my way out of the café - the main bathroom was out of use, leaving only the handicapped facilities open. I went in and took care of business, only to see that the handle for flushing the toilet wasn't working. I did however see a red cable hanging from the ceiling, right next to the toilet. I don't know why I thought it had anything to do with flushing the toilet, but I gave it a quick tug, setting off what sounded like an alarm calling for assistance. I gathered my stuff up as quickly as possible, and moved as quickly and discreetly as possible out of the café. Not my finest moment.

Wirujący Sex

2010-01-03T16:45:00.003Z

Christmas has pretty much come and gone since I last wrote, it's been a very quiet couple of weeks. The main thing for me is that 2009 is over, I think it was a pretty crap year for everyone. 2010 simply has to be better. Either way, on Thursday night I trudged through the snow to ring in the new year at my friend Małgorzata's gaff in town, with some of her cousins. It was really hard to remember everyone's name, but I had a great time. It was the first house party kinda thing I'd ever been to that I actually enjoyed; normally these kinda shindigs involve either a lot of drink, or drugs, or couples pairing off into bedrooms, and none of that happened this time. At midnight we all went into the courtyard of the apartment complex and had a massive snowball fight. The snowballs seemed to be made of ice more than snow though, I got one in the stomach and it winded me. I left at around half one or so, to avoid going through town after pub closing time. The footpaths were absolutely treacherous, ice was everywhere, and I didn't fancy trying to fight my way through crowds of drunks in those conditions. I saw one girl in ridiculously high heels and a very skimpy mini-dress who couldn't walk at all. Her boyfriend was trying to hail a taxi, but with no success. I was wearing a fleece and ski jacket, and I was freezing. I wonder how she felt. The country has been covered in ice since, it's only starting to thaw today. Buses were cancelled on New Year's Day and only started working again yesterday. All because of three inches of snow. Now that things are starting to clear up, I'm going to head up to Belfast tomorrow to pick up some jeans on sale. Nowhere in Dublin seems to sell what I'm looking for, it's driving me crazy. All I find are racks and racks of bootcut jeans or 501s. Ridiculous.

The Rural Juror

2009-12-21T23:16:00.003Z

I had a very strange gig at the Winterfest in Fibber's last night. My shoulder was still sore from the Limelight show in Belfast, so I couldn't rock out onstage. It was a nice change of pace though, for once I could just play the tunes without being wrecked after about ten seconds. I couldn't resist the temptation to go a little mad at the very end of the set though. We all went for very civilised drinks in the Market Bar afterward. It was nice and quiet, and everyone was able to chat pleasantly. Not a particularly metal evening, but I had fun.

My family Christmas shopping is largely taken care of, which means that I am now free to go and look for a few little knick-knacks here and there for non-family members. Today seemed as good a day as any, so I thought I'd head into the city and have a wander. I was only after arriving in town when I got a text from my good friend Rory, who I hadn't seen since my last trip to London. He was in town with his baby son Rua, looking to do some Christmas shopping, so I went to meet him. For some reason we ended up going to the café in the Jervis Centre for a cup of coffee; it might have been my fault. The queue was full of knackers who complained about their sandwiches and skipped me in the line. All I wanted was two cappuccinos. Rory had presents to buy for his brother, sister, mother and girlfriend, so after the coffee we decided to get down to business. For some reason, every idea I had for presents worked out really well. If only these skills translated as well to my own shopping.

Ricky Roma

2009-12-15T20:19:00.005Z

The internet has been down in the gaff for most of the last two weeks, making it very difficult to update the auld blog. It's a pity; a lot has been going on and I'm not sure how much I'll remember.

I suppose the first thing I'm going to mention is that we had to put Pushkin, the family's beloved cat, to sleep last week. She hadn't been on top form for a while, but on Monday last week things took a sudden turn for the worse. The vet told us that all the signs were pointing to kidney failure, and that quality of life was going to become an issue. It appeared that the symptoms she was going through were the thin end of the wedge, and we didn't want her to suffer. She went to sleep very peacefully. The house seems very quiet without her though.

The band have been playing a few gigs too, including our first gig in Belfast in years. We were playing the Limelight with Two Tales of Woe, Sinocence and Devilmakesthree as part of a Christmas show run by The Distortion Project. It was a great night with a great crowd, but the cold Northern climate made it very difficult to rock out onstage. About ten minutes after we were finished, my shoulder cramped up very painfully and has been sore ever since. I put a Nurofen heat pack on it today, hopefully it'll be feeling better before our next gig in Fibber's on Sunday. I don't fancy sitting down onstage at a metal show.

I had my first jam with the DIT Big Band yesterday as well, covering for their usual bass player. I wasn't sure quite what to expect, and I could feel my stomach sink when I was confronted with a chart with a fully written out bass line in the key of D♭ major. Playing the parts on a six string bass without any preparation is not for the faint-hearted, my hands were sweating like crazy. Still, I was glad for the opportunity to play some new stuff and to catch up on my sight-reading. I'm going to photocopy the music from the band's book before next time, though - as great as it is to have your ass kicked every so often, I don't intend to make a habit of it.

The Mock Turtle

2009-11-22T17:26:00.000Z

There has been one thing on the nation's lips since the last time I wrote: Thierry Henry's handball during the French match the other night. It's even gotten to the stage where the Irish government is trying to get involved. You can't help but feel that this is just an attempt for them to curry favour with the public after the economic turmoil of the past year or so. Either way, I'm getting a little bored of the whole saga. For me, the biggest event of the week has been discovering Raymond Carver. Ever since I read through Kurt Vonnegut's books I've been looking for another good short story writer, and I think this is the guy for me. I first read about him in the Guardian a few weeks ago, and happened across some of his stuff going for less than a tenner in Hodges and Figgis the other day. It seemed like an omen. The book I bought is called What We Talk About When We Talk About Love; girls always want to know what it's about. I suppose it does seem like a very romantic title, but really it's a collection of some very dark, bleak stories. I finished it after a couple of hours, I have another book waiting for me in my bag.

The Mad Hatter

2009-11-18T10:21:00.002Z

It was a good day yesterday. Walking though town on the way to practice, I came up to an enormous crowd on Grafton Street. I didn't know it at the time, but John and Edward (I'm not going to call them Jedward, except for this one time) from X Factor were there to turn on the Christmas lights. There were thousands of screaming girls, none of whom would get out of my way. I pushed through, knocking my bass off of loads of people. As I got to the studio, I heard the sound of a guy making a countdown - someone else was turning the George's Street lights on. The announcer counted down to zero, flicked the switch... And nothing happened. He got it to work "second time round", luckily. It was a nice scene though, I went into practice feeling festive. The jam was really great, we have a proper set together for the gigs in December. I'm really looking forward to playing now. It was also momentous because I finally got my paws on a physical copy of the CD, ten and a half months after we started recording it. I had already seen H's copy at a distance, but looking at my own copy in my room was a different experience altogether. I had forgotten that my name is down as "Patrick Kiernan" on it though, my mother will be thrilled.

I had a strange dream last night too - I was in a cafeteria with my friends, and insults were flying. Things were getting a little outrageous, so I went to a table far away from everyone else to sit down with a copy of The Observer. I didn't realise it, but a gorgeous, short-haired girl was sitting opposite me. She had heard the insults I had shouted and was laughing. She hinted she wanted a man who could make her laugh like that. So I do the standard Paddy thing and give her my phone number on a piece of torn-off newspaper. The girl looks ecstatic, like I'm Jesus and I've just cured her leprosy. You could nearly see tears of joy streaming down her face... Until she makes a very small moan. And then another. And then another. They start to get louder, and before you know it she's having a full When Harry Met Sally-style orgasm at the table. I could see the boys running away with embarrassment. I didn't move, I think dream-Paddy was enjoying the show.

2BR02B

2009-11-16T14:32:00.003Z

After the wildness of last weekend, it has seemed like a very quiet week. Only three things of note happened, as far as I can remember:

1./ The band had their first jam since Matt got hurt. It was nice to get back to playing, it had been a long time since we'd done some of the tunes. At the end of the jam Dave's long-suffering guitar cut out, and he smashed it off the ground.

I think he'll need to do some repairs.

2./ I watched Four Weddings and a Funeral on Saturday night, I didn't have the energy to face going into town for the evening. Really terrible. Andie McDowell might well be the worst actress I've ever seen, I couldn't even enjoy her on an ironic level. I capped the night off by watching the tail end of The 100 Greatest Ads ever on Channel 4. The Smash Martians won. A night well wasted if there ever was one.

3./ On Sunday night I went to see Ingrid Laubrock, Tom Rainey, Ronan Guilfoyle and Michael Buckley play in JJ's. I saw this lineup a few years ago, and was really impressed; Tom Rainey is a bit of a hero of mine. It was a really amazing show, they played for the guts of two hours with not a tune in sight. I was worn out by the end though, it was very intense. As I was leaving, I saw this absolutely gorgeous girl standing next to the bar. Short brown hair, the works. It just so happens that the last few times I've noticed someone like that at a jazz gig, the girl is always with this one guy. This time was no exception; he's like a magnet for chicks I fancy. I wonder what his secret is.

Number Six

2009-11-09T20:19:00.002Z

The band had two Swedish visitors over the last few days: our producer Jens, and our good friend Emil. I was really glad for the chance to hang out. For one thing, I was probably a little too stressed out over the whole recording process in Sweden to fully appreciate my time there, and this was a chance to make amends. It could have been the best weekend I've had in years, I literally cannot remember the last time I laughed as much. By the end of our time together I was worried I had strained my tongue from talking, it was aching and sore. It's feeling better now though.

The Stag's Head

2009-11-02T19:47:00.003Z

It was my birthday on Friday, the big Two Nine. I was dreading the occasion all week, but once midnight actually came and the world didn't stop turning, I felt OK. My brother Joe got me an awesome razor, and I was sent a lot of birthday greetings, so I was pretty happy with that. I didn't really have anything planned for the evening, so I headed into the studio for a relaxed evening's jam with the boys. Things were originally going to start at around seven, as per usual, but I headed out for a quick coffee with Johnny beforehand. We were moving along at a relaxed pace; we even made a few stops on the way back. At this stage, I got a missed phone call from our drummer Matt. I called him back, but the phone rang out before picking up for a split second. I thought there might have been a problem with the connection. We were only around the corner from the studio at this stage, so we walked on. As we neared the studio, we saw a police motorbike go around the corner, and a crowd assembling. We walk around, and see Matt outside the studio door, bleeding, talking to the police. It turned out two homeless guys had attacked him, and in the struggle had broken a bottle over his neck. It was pretty shocking, to be honest. We've been in the studio for nearly six years, and there's never been trouble before. That area of town is very nice, and I've felt safe walking through it at any time, day or night. Two undercover police took a statement from Matt, while others went looking for the guys who did it. The cops seemed pretty inured to what was going on. Paramedics came pretty quickly, and took Matt to James's Street Hospital for stitches. It was my first time in an ambulance, I suppose I've been lucky so far. The A&E department at the hospital is a pretty grim place, like I imagine most emergency departments are, at least outside of TV. At least it was still early enough on a Friday night, so we had arrived before the alcohol-related cases started to pour in. An LCD screen helpfully informed us that patients could be waiting between four and six hours for treatment. Matt was taken into triage very quickly, but this was only the first step; they put a bandage over his wound. Some pretty desperate looking cases came in - one homeless looking guy arrived with blood all over his head. He was absolutely filthy. Much to the triage doctor's credit, he was treated the exact same as every other patient. Matt's dad had arrived at this stage, and after a quick discussion with some paramedics, decided to take him to a private hospital for stitches - with health insurance it would cost around a hundred quid or so. It seemed like a price worth paying, within a couple of hours we would have had front row seats to all the chaos that Dublin provides in its hospitals on a Friday night.

Dubhlinn Gardens

2009-10-29T15:13:00.005Z

On the way to Stewart Lee's show in Vicar Street on Monday, the three of us who have taste in comedy (that's Shawna, my brother Joe, and I) stopped into a Pizza Hut. It was pretty quiet, so we sat ourselves down in a booth and waited to be served. After a few minutes, we were still waiting. Shawna said that I should call one of the waitresses over, so I jokingly flailed my arms around to get their attention, in a display that would shame someone suffering from Tourette's. I didn't realise that it would actually work; a waitress duly came over and served us. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Stewart Lee himself was absolutely hilarious - my face was sore from laughing by the end. I had no idea that a completely preposterous story about a slogan for pear cider could be so funny. On Tuesday night, the band had a photo shoot. It was hard to find a location, so we headed down to Dublin Castle and roamed around looking for a good spot. The main garden area of the castle was closed, but we snuck in through a side gate and managed to get an hour or two of shooting done before we were caught by security guards and made leave. Apparently you need a permit to take pictures in parks in Dublin. Especially when they are closed. On Wednesday night, the Electric Penguins were scheduled to play in Bewley's Theatre. I got there pretty early, and entertained myself for a while playing a super-slow blues in G on the piano. The rest of the boys came with their array of synths, but without the interface we needed to run backing tracks from the laptop. This could have spelled disaster, but luckily they managed to make contact with someone who happened to have the relevant piece of equipment, and he graciously gave it to us for the evening. By the time this problem was solved, we had less than an hour to soundcheck, but somehow everything ran very smoothly. My bass sounded absolutely amazing. I wasn't able to go through the PA system because we had run out of channels, so I had to turn it up onstage to project it out into the audience directly. Everyone was making comments about how good it sounded, especially considering how small the amp is. The first band on were really great, they were doing a lot of vocal harmony-based kinda stuff. They had this fourteen year old guitar player with them, and he was really nailing stuff that some guys twice his age would find tricky. We went on pretty quickly after they wrapped up, and as we started I leaned down to turn on my amp... Only to find that it wouldn't switch on. I tried looking through all the plug sockets to try and figure out what was going wrong, but everything seemed to be in place. Then, without any warning, the amp started working again. I can't explain it. The gig itself went really well, especially compared to the other two shows we've done. For once I could hear the synths, the piano and the backing tracks really clearly, which made things a lot easier for me. The set was nicely arranged too, there was plenty of ebb and flow. It also helped that there was a good crowd, Bewley's is always good for that kinda thing.

Ben Bulben

2009-10-26T14:34:00.005Z

The trip up to Belfast on Saturday was long. I arrived in Belfast at six o'clock, just in time for the shops to close, so I didn't get a chance to check out the Levi's shop there for jeans, and the weather was terrible. It was absolutely lashing out, and the wind was practically making the rain fall horizontally. I almost missed my old Columbia jacket. The usual feelings of paranoia hit me a little as I was walking around; I saw two rough looking characters in tracksuits wearing poppies, and I couldn't help but feel that they were staring at me. I am a Fenian bastard, after all. As it happened, I was also very early for the gig - I thought doors were opening at seven, but a quick glance at Google as I walked past City Hall confirmed that they would in fact be opening at eight. Luckily I also found out that the venue for the gig had a cafe for me to shelter in. All I had to do was find it. I got directions on Google Maps, and followed them. I normally trust my geographical skills, but when I found myself at the end of a completely unlit, narrow street, I was a little worried. My dad hates the idea of me travelling up North, and I couldn't help but wonder what he would have to say about me walking through such a place alone in a relatively unfamiliar and potentially hostile city. Either way, I decided to man up and walk down it - and there was the place, exactly where Google said it would be. I'll never doubt again. The cafe was lovely. There was nice music playing, good coffee, friendly staff, art on the walls, sofas to sit on... I was thrilled, especially because the gig was going to be right next door. Altar of Plagues came on eventually, and were absolutely amazing. It was probably the best metal gig I've seen since Behold... The Arctopus last year. I was so impressed that I even bought a t-shirt, which I never normally do. It'll be handy to have a band shirt for gigs, it'll help me blend in with the metallers. I was in no humour to listen to Isis (ever album they've made since Oceanic sounds kinda similar to me), so I left for the ten o'clock bus back to Dublin. There was a birthday party which I was going to pop into, and I had an early start on Sunday morning. The bus landed at Busaras at quarter past twelve, and I was absolutely exhausted. I didn't hear anything back from the birthday party, so I went for a Nitelink home, where I bumped into my mate Laura. It was nice to catch up for a little while. I collapsed into bed at two o'clock, but thanks to the magic of Daylight Savings Time I managed to get an extra hour's sleep before waking up for the trip to Sligo with the Electric Penguins. It was a beautiful morning for a drive, although it was farther to Sligo than I remembered. Still, there was some really stunning scenery along the way, and we had a good laugh in the car. We were playing in a very fancy new hotel, right next to the river in Sligo town. Before we had even finished setting up, a crowd started to arrive for the show, which made things a little stressful. There were some technical difficulties in getting the PA system working - even though the setup had been stripped down since the Oxegen gig a few months back, it was still very complex. Due to a lack of plugs, we couldn't even use one of the synths. Still, the show must go on. All in all, things went pretty well. There were a few small hiccups, but nothing major. The crowd seemed to enjoy it, and I even signed a couple of autographs afterward. We left for Dublin at the very un-rock and roll hour of five o'clock. The nights get very dark now that the hour has gone back; it was twilight by half five. There was some seriously reckless driving on road through the countryside though, one car had to go on a verge to avoid a collision along the way. I was feeling pretty worn out at this stage from the weekend's activities, I had done around 500 miles travelling since Saturday morning. Luckily it was a nice relaxed drive back home. Tonight, Stewart Lee is on in Vicar Street. I'm really excited.

Lampan

2009-10-22T16:33:00.004+01:00

I headed out to Ikea in Ballymun on Sunday for the first time, with my friend Shawna. That neck of the woods is pretty unfamiliar to me - I normally only see the outlines of the flats on the horizon as I get the bus into town. I got an unexpected tour on the bus though, as it took an unscheduled detour through the area. I don't want to sound like a naïve, middle-class kinda guy, but I'd never been confronted with such abject poverty before. The buildings which I see as tiny specks from my bus are in fact rotting, half abandoned concrete hulks covered with graffiti. You'd think they were empty, except you can see signs of life through the windows that aren't boarded up. Groups of surly looking guys congregate on balconies. It looks like some Soviet wasteland - until you remember that you're still in Dublin, only four miles or so from the city centre. Ten minutes later, we were stepping off the bus, and into a haven of Scandinavian design. It was an odd shift. The crowds were huge, but I suppose that was to be expected considering it was a Sunday afternoon. There were kids everywhere, and I kept tripping over them. I bought my mother a lamp for four euro. Even though it was cheap, it was really well made. That's generally the case with the stuff they sell there, I think. In the cafeteria, they had an enormous picture of Stockholm hanging on the wall. I couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic. I have a busy weekend ahead of me though - on Saturday I'm heading up to Belfast to catch Altar of Plagues supporting Isis, on Sunday I'm playing a show in Sligo with the Electric Penguins, and on Monday night I'm going to Vicar Street to catch Stewart Lee. I'm pretty excited.

The Frieze of Life

2009-10-17T14:33:00.002+01:00

The band had a good jam last night; myself, H and Matt got down early enough and started running through some tunes from the album that we hadn't played yet. It was nice to break the monotony of playing through the set repeatedly, I'm starting to find it hard going every so often. Afterwards Dave and I decided to head up to a gig that was on in The Tap up on North King Street. I'd never been there before, but it seems to be the place for punk and hardcore gigs lately. It has two floors - the main bar is on top, and looks very shady. A function room is in the basement, and that is where the gigs are. The barman used to play in a few bands and seems sympathetic to the kinda things that go on. When we got to the door, some young girl was puking on the footpath. I hadn't been to any of these kinda gigs in a long time, and I wasn't sure what to expect. The place was full of dudes in hoodies or obscure hardcore band t-shirts, and girls who looked way too young and posh to be in a place like that. In a room that was apparently full of vegans, it looked like I was the only person wearing a leather jacket. Either way, the music was pretty good. Very different to what I'd seen at the last few gigs, though. Everyone kinda sounded like Bane to my ears, although I'm not much of an expert on that style. There were a few friendly faces at the gig too, I kept bumping into people I hadn't seen in ages. Some seriously vicious moshing broke out too, I saw two guys go into the bathroom with nosebleeds. The whole thing wrapped up by half eleven, and I was home an hour later. Good buzz. This morning I woke up, and found my old phone that got a soaking a few months ago. I decided to see if it was working now, and it was. Even the memory card with all my pictures worked. Maybe it just needed a few months to dry out.

Mintropstraße 16

2009-10-15T17:16:00.003+01:00

I was in the humour for a little culture on Monday, so I headed into the Munch exhibition in the National Gallery. Everybody recognises The Scream, but I hadn't actually seen much of his other work before. There were a few recurring motifs in the prints - some women standing next to the sea looking sad, some guy sitting around looking sad. Sperm made an appearance in at least three prints. I got the feeling I didn't quite understand what was going on - after all, I got an F in Ordinary Level Art in my Junior Cert. Still, I enjoyed myself - and it was free!

Kling Klang

2009-10-11T19:53:00.006+01:00

I played in Whelan's on Thursday night with my mate Val. It was my first time playing there since they refurbished the place a few years ago. There was also a stunning new backstage area, equipped with a fridge, a bathroom, mirrors, and a very comfy sofa. Unfortunately, that particular room wasn't meant for us; within seconds of sitting down on the most comfortable chair in the universe, we were being ushered out. It turned out to be the backstage for the main act, which we were not. I had a feeling it was too good to be true. The consolation prize was a slightly smaller backstage area, overlooking Wexford Street. It was also nice, I suppose. The gig was smooth enough, but things went on slightly longer than planned, meaning I missed the last bus home. There was nothing that could be done, so I packed up my gear and headed back to the studio to drop it off before going for a Luas. As I was trudging down the street carrying everything, some guys in a car shouted "Baldy!" at me. I turned around to respond, but they were off before I had a chance, windows up and music blaring. I wanted to tell them that they were all a shower of useless cunts. It took three quarters of an hour to walk home from the last Luas stop. I have a new way of walking home now - it's probably no faster than the old way, but it's slightly less boring. I spent most of my Friday walking around town in the rain, collecting rent money for the studio. The whole trip took four hours, all in all, and I have no idea how. As I reached my Starbucks for a coffee to relax after all my travels, the skies cleared and the sun came out. I could enjoy the irony, if nothing else. The bathrooms in the cafe had a hand dryer, so I managed to dry off my jeans. My hoodie was a lost cause though, it was totally soaked. Myself, Dave, and Johnny jammed in the studio for a while afterward. The rest of the weekend was pretty quiet. Dave and I headed out to Dundrum for a bit of a wander. We went for a quick coffee in a bookshop there, here is the view from the window when you sit down:

Irish architecture at its best.

Finch's Landing

2009-10-05T21:07:00.006+01:00

There was a music exhibition in the RDS over the weekend, and I went on Saturday afternoon with my brother Joe, and my friends Dave and Mick. It's an annual affair, and at this stage I've gone for the past three years. It's always the same kinda thing: big crowds, loads of noise, no good gear. I always tell myself afterward that I'll never go again, but after a year or so the bitter taste of disappointment fades and I find myself getting roped into going back. Things started off pretty well - I managed to get in on a student discount, saving myself four euro. I didn't even need a student ID card. The thrill didn't last long though, I had seen practically everything there was to see after about ten minutes. Somehow, I managed to spent two hours there. It was like being in a time-warp. The highlight of the exhibition for me was getting to play a gorgeous bass through a €2,500 Bose sound system. The tone would nearly bring tears to your eyes. Dave also managed to find an excellent deal on CD duplication. So I suppose it's not all bad. I walked very slowly into town afterward - I was playing in Bewley's that night, and we had a soundcheck to do before. It was a gorgeous day for a stroll, the road from Ballsbridge is beautiful in the autumn. The preparations for the show were pretty simple - I plugged my bass in, and I was happy with the sound straight away. The gig was pretty good too, I was much happier with it than I was with our last show there the other month. Jenna Harris' band went on after us, I really liked them. I was kinda expecting a free jazz onslaught, but they just played some tunes really nicely. I went into town again with Joe yesterday to hit a sale on in Music Maker. They had some ridiculous deals. I bumped into my good pal Fraz, who had gotten married since the last time I saw him. Now he has a lovely wife, a beautiful little dog, and a Fiat Punto. Crazy.

Operation Bernhard

2009-10-02T13:44:00.003+01:00

Pardon me for getting a little political, but the second vote on the Lisbon Treaty is on in Ireland today and I'm in the grip of referendum fever. It's been very confusing trying to learn the facts about what the Treaty really means for us, there have been a lot of conflicting opinions flying about lately and very little sober debate. On the yes side, there are a set of amorphous threats coming out that if we reject the Treaty for a second time we'll be relegated to second tier membership status of the EU, and multinational investment will dry up. The no side are more succinct: under the treaty we would be reduced to being an outpost of a new European empire, with abortion, pay cuts and conscription for all. So it seems to an extent that nobody is really telling us the truth of the matter. On the one hand, I don't believe the EU has the power to affect our status inside the Union, and I think that multinational investors care far more about low tax rates, worker skills and proximity to European markets than whether or not we ratified a treaty. On the other hand, we have a set of guarantees safeguarding the constitutional restrictions on abortion rights, minimum wages, taxes and neutrality in the event of the Treaty being ratified. I suppose the only thing you really can learn from all this is that most people involved in the campaign - regardless of political affiliation - are goddamn idiots. It makes me wish that we really were going to be made into a European province; we need someone like the Germans to step in and save us from ourselves.

Gull Things Considered

2009-09-30T15:33:00.004+01:00

I went to Gig #3 of the past week last night: Zu in Crawdaddy. I normally have Eyesclosed rehearsals on Tuesday nights, but there was a change of plans which left me free for the evening. I originally thought that the gig was going to start at about eight or so, like I remember normal mid-week rock gigs doing, but when I arrived there was nothing happening, only people drinking outside. I was surprised to bump into loads of people I knew; I guess Zu must be more popular than I had realised. Either way, the show kicked off close to nine o'clock or so. I was a little anxious about missing Zu's set - last bus was at half eleven and it seemed that there were now four bands on the bill instead of the three I was expecting. My mate Ciarán and I were in the venue for the first band to come on. A guy strolled up with an acoustic guitar and a harmonica and started playing some tunes with a slightly ropey sounding band... We left after a few seconds. I only found out today that the bass player (who was hidden behind a speaker) was none other than Bassetti from Jackbeast, one of my favourite bands of all time. I probably should have paid more attention. Oh well. My friend Alanna came up a few minutes after, just before Bats came on, who were great. I was standing next to their merch table as they were playing, and I couldn't help looking enviously at their t-shirts. They came in three colours: white, yellow, and brown. When our band's t-shirts come, they'll be in black, black, and black. I ended up in the smoking area for most of the next band, being friendly. By the time Zu were meant to come on, I had a good spot close to the stage. For about twenty minutes before they started, they had a bass drone playing over the PA. There were snippets of voices in the mix somewhere too. It was very strange. When they actually started, I was completely stunned. Even though it was super-noisy and really loud, they were the tightest band I had ever heard. I think I only saw them count in one tune the whole time I was there. Every so often there would be a second or two of silence in a tune, and it was so quiet you could hear the hair grow on peoples' faces. I was literally slack-jawed watching them. It was so much fun that I decided to miss last bus home, and get a Luas back instead. At one point the drummer ran offstage (to grab a can of Tuborg, by the looks of things) and the sax player and bass player went into a little noise duet for a minute or two. Ordinarily, I would have thought this would have been a bad idea, but I think the crowd really got into it - all around was a sea of rapt faces, all looking like they were dying to know what was coming up next. It was a genuinely eye-opening experience. I left Crawdaddy with the band still playing, and went for a Luas home at around midnight. It was a shame to leave, but I was faced with a fifty minute walk home from the last stop, and I wasn't prepared to shell out twenty quid for a taxi from town. I hate being a slave to public transport.

La Touche Hotel

2009-09-27T23:57:00.003+01:00

I was at a gig over the weekend - Bats, in Greystones. I hadn't been down there in ten years, so I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was much nicer than I remembered. I was going with my friend Alanna, who is back from Barcelona for a few weeks. As someone who ends up mainly at heavy metal gigs, I was a little shocked by the culture of this show. For one thing, every band had at least one member who wore glasses onstage, during performance. Wow. The music was very different from what I was used to as well; even though Bats are "heavy" in places, there was no palm muting, double bass drums, or Meshuggah-esque polyrhythms to be heard. It was even funny in places, in a knowing kinda way. I liked it. Tonight, I went to see some jazz in Le Basement. The band were great, but there was only a handful of people listening. It was kinda depressing.

Eazy Tyger

2009-09-24T19:35:00.001+01:00

I was standing at the bus top today on my way to a rehearsal, talking on the phone, when a little girl who was also waiting at the bus stop with her mother walked up and stuck her tongue out at me. I was a little surprised, and it threw me a little. After the phone call ended, she walked back up again, and stuck her tongue out. So I did the only thing I could do, and stuck my tongue back out at her. That settled matters for a few seconds, and the girl went back to her mother. The bus was a long time coming, so after a minute or two, the girl walked back up to me and called me an "eejit", which is Irish slang for "idiot". I looked over at this girl's mother -she was a seriously rough looking character. I would have killed for the bus to come. The girl was hovering around me at this stage, and at one point walked up to me and asked me what I "was staring at". I laughed or something, and she mimicked my laugh in this really nasty little way. I'm not saying a five year old hurt my feelings or anything, but this was first hand experience of how little scumbags come about. Her mother was drinking a bottle of Lucozade or something, and let out the biggest burp I'd ever heard from a woman. I was goddamn mortified.

The Mean Fiddler

2009-09-20T13:58:00.005+01:00

I was out last night for Dave's girlfriend Niamh's birthday, down in the Foggy Dew. It was a great night; there was a good group of us there and we were all having a laugh. All good things must come to an end though - by about one o'clock everyone decided to head up to Whelan's. I just didn't have the energy for it, so I headed home. I had the strangest dream when I got to sleep, though - I had an enormous abscess in the front of my mouth. It was so big that it bulged out the front of my face, I couldn't even open my right eye. Doctors came to operate on me, but they had an argument around the operating table and one of them stormed out, knocking his instruments all over the floor. I ended up talking to a big bald dude about all this, and he told me not to complain - he had swallowed a bunch of nails, and was in pretty serious pain. At this point I woke up, feeling pretty refreshed. I suppose dreams only last for twenty seconds or so in real life. I'm heading into town today for a gig - The Whiskey Limbs are playing in The Mezz. It's being videotaped or something, I'm not sure. At least it's something to do on a Sunday afternoon.

The Gospel From Outer Space

2009-09-19T12:27:00.005+01:00

If you Google me, you'll find that I am probably the first person that comes up, via my old Myspace page that I hardly visit anymore. You'll also probably find links to this blog, or maybe my Facebook page or whatever. On my blog, I have a Statcounter web tracker installed. I use it mainly to see how many visitors it gets, but occasionally the counter gives away information about how people found their way on to it. I find it kinda interesting to read, if only for my own curiosity. Yesterday, a person stumbled across my blog after searching online for the name of an old acquaintance from years ago, namely a girl who I saw way back in the year 2000. I have a horrible feeling that it was the person herself who was looking - who hasn't done it at least once? Things didn't end particularly well between us, and the last time I heard from her was when she made a few obscene phone calls to me in work a couple of years back. What fun. So she got a mention or two in the auld blog, and I suppose I never thought she'd have the mental wherewithal to actually find what I said. Unfortunately, if you type her name and the name of her town into Google, my scribblings are the first and only thing that come up about her. Here, take a look for yourself:

I kinda feel bad, even if she is a total mucksavage.

The Lizards and the Jews

2009-09-13T19:17:00.001+01:00

The gig in Kilkenny yesterday was great craic. We got down to the venue (Cleere's Theatre) in plenty of time, and hung out until it was time for soundcheck. It was a lovely place, but the stage was really small. There were microphone cables and effects pedals all over the gaff for me to trip over. We started playing just after ten o'clock, and I could hardly hear a thing onstage, only the amps on my side of the stage and the drums. Still, you have to soldier on. The stage made it very difficult to rock out - there was a gap in the floor that nearly killed me a few times, and the lack of overall space meant there wasn't a whole lot of room to manoeuvre. We only had a five song set, and as we were about to start our last tune, Matt broke his snare skin. We managed to patch it up with gaffer tape and carry on. It took a minute to fix the drum, so it was a chance to catch my breath. As it was the last song, I thought I'd try and give it all the energy I could... Only to knock over my mic stand. I didn't even notice that I had hit it, until I started hearing a slight feedback kinda noise coming from somewhere and saw the mic on the floor. I tried to pick it up as quickly as I could, until I heard something happen on the other side of the stage - something had gone wrong with Dave's guitar. I still don't know what it was. Either way, you can't worry about these things. My own experiences last year taught me that no matter what disasters befall you at a gig, you have to remember that it's only a show; nobody dies at these things. Either way, everyone seemed to enjoy it. My neck was killing me afterward though. As the evening progressed, everyone ended up in the gay bar next door. I was a bit surprised that a country town like Kilkenny would have somewhere like that, but hey. It was really great, we all had a lot of fun. The only strange thing was the almost complete lack of gay people. Admittedly, I'd only been in one gay pub before (The George), but this place had a much different atmosphere. For one thing, it was full of country girls and hen nights giving it socks on the dance floor. You could have been in any club in Kilkenny, except that the tunes were way better and there was also a stage show performed by two extremely elegant drag queens. My neck started getting pretty sore by closing time, so I headed back to the hostel we had booked to get some rest. It was a nice place - the beds were clean, and there was a lock on the door. I couldn't ask for much more, really. It was really hard to get to sleep, though - my neck was really sore, and all the boys came back after an hour or so, eating burgers. There were some pretty intense antics going on, and it was half four before it all quietened down... Then, the snoring began. It came from all directions. I felt like I was in Sweden all over again.

Maniacs in the Fourth Dimension

2009-09-12T13:51:00.004+01:00

I'm gigging down in Kilkenny tonight, with Itchy Trigger Finger. I'm really looking forward to it; the show is in in Cleere's Theatre, which I've never been to. I love nothing more than playing new places. Apparently it looks full when thirty people turn up, which is always a good thing, especially since ITF are a good draw in Kilkenny. I also hear the stage might be a bit small for the five of us and all our gear, so hopefully that means I'll be able to rock out in the crowd. We're staying in a hostel tonight, but I have a feeling it'll be a lot better than the last time we did that.

Swastika Laundry

2009-09-07T23:37:00.005+01:00

I left the gaff under my own steam for the first time in a week today. It was a huge relief to get out into the fresh air again. There was nothing special planned, just a quick coffee with my da in Ranelagh. Afterward, I headed into Tower Records to see if anything worthwhile had come in during my absence; there was nothing. I ended up sitting in my Starbucks reading a Guardian supplement about the Second World War. I suppose it's been seventy years and a week since it started by now. There was a very interesting article about official Japanese advice given to kamikaze pilots, it gave me shivers to read it. War seemed to be a recurring theme today - I went to see The Hurt Locker tonight in Dun Laoghaire. I don't want to spoil it for those of you who haven't seen it, but I thought it was pretty good. Soldiers seem to be having more existential crises in films nowadays, though. If I see one more scene of a returning soldier finding it hard to readjust to civilian life after leaving the service, I don't know what I'll do. I suppose the days of films like Patton are over.

The Larry David Sandwich

2009-09-05T15:25:00.002+01:00

I've pretty much shaken off the flu at this stage, the only problem is that I feel absolutely exhausted since. I left the gaff to go for a quick drive to Stillorgan yesterday with my ma and my brother, and I was falling asleep in the car on the way home. Still, it's not all bad - I've been spending my time at home watching endless episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm. When I first got into that show I could only watch for a few minutes at a time because I found it so intense, but it doesn't bother me so much anymore. I've built up my tolerance to the point where now I can watch six episodes in a row. Maybe I'm just too tired to be embarrassed.

Montana Wildhack

2009-09-01T22:29:00.000+01:00

The cold I felt creeping up on me on Sunday afternoon finally arrived that night as I was playing a gig in Le Basement. My head was absolutely swimming for most of it, and I ended up sitting down for the entire second set. There were a lot of unfamiliar, asymmetrical tunes on the setlist, which kept my mind off of the cold, but when I wasn't playing I felt absolutely disgusting. I ended up getting a taxi home, which is as good an indicator as any of how desperate I was to get into bed. By the time I got into my room, I was shivering and dizzy. I woke up the next morning, and I was practically paralysed. I kept on drifting back to sleep, and as I lay there in semi-consciousness I could hear the sound of a chord progression going round and round and round... And I would wake up. That was how I spent Monday morning. By the afternoon, I found a copy of Strumpet City that happened to be lying in arm's reach, and I flicked through it. Very depressing reading. I was still too dizzy to get out of bed, so it was only when my brother came home and plugged the internet in that I could go online. I can hardly remember what happened afterward. I woke up this morning feeling better than yesterday. I picked up a different book from my bedside table thing - Slaughterhouse Five - and read that for a while. I whiled away the afternoon watching Stewart Lee videos on Youtube. He's a really funny guy, and there's a lot of his videos online. I spent the night watching Commando, with Arnold Schwarzenegger. I hadn't seen it since I was a kid, and I was in the mood for some seriously light entertainment. It was pretty funny, to be honest, although I'm not sure if that was intentional or not. The villains were all super-evil (sample line: "Slitting a little girl's throat is like cutting warm butter"), so by the time the climactic fight scene came at the end and Arnie was mowing down hundreds of anonymous Spanish-looking dudes with an arsenal of guns and grenades, you were sure he was Doing The Right Thing. The only thing that really bothered me though was the final battle between Arnie's character (Matrix) and his traitorous former colleague, Bennett, played by Vernon Wells. They are fighting hand to hand. On the one hand, you have an enormous, muscle-bound Austrian. On the other, some fat guy with a handlebar moustache, chains, and leather pants. For some reason, even though Matrix has literally killed hundreds of guys to get to this point, he struggles in the fight against Bennett. Even as a child, I thought this was a plot hole too far.

Dischi Volanti

2009-08-30T15:40:00.003+01:00

I had a bit of a crisis yesterday, as I was getting ready for a jazz gig in town. There was a dress code - black - and I couldn't find my trousers anywhere. I wasn't worried - Dunnes Stores are only up the road and they have loads of black trousers for sale, so myself and Dave headed in to buy a pair. The first problem was finding anything in my size. I wear twenty eight inch waist jeans, and there were no trousers smaller than thirty inches on the racks. Much to Dave's amusement, I came across my size eventually - in the "back to school" section. They had a picture of a grown man on the front, and they were seven euro cheaper than identical trousers two inches bigger around the waist, so I didn't care too much. I went home and started getting ready for the gig. I had a shower and a shave, and started to put my new trousers on... Only to find that they wouldn't even nearly fit me. Talk about a disaster. I tried everything to squeeze into them to no avail, and ended up having to wear my brother's old trousers, which were absolutely enormous on me. I knew things were bad when my mother said I looked "OK" - which is a euphemism for "you look fucking awful". I saw a reflection of myself at the Luas stop on the way in, and averted my eyes from every other reflective surface I passed. The gig was in Le Basement, on Dame Lane, around the corner from the rehearsal studio. It's a very nice spot, I was pleasantly surprised. We got started at about half nine or so, and were scheduled to go on till half twelve, with a few intervals in between. We were playing with a singer; a nice lady called Paula. My friends Judith and Dennis were on piano and sax, and the one and only Conor Murray was on drums. I had an absolute ball playing, we had loads of space to stretch out. By the end the crowd were really into it - over my bass solo in the last tune, Paula announced my name and everyone started clapping really loudly and I got a little distracted and lost my place. I suppose I should try and get used to acclaim. I trudged home afterward in my ill-fitting trousers and went to bed... Only to wake up in the morning with a sore throat and what feels like a cold. I didn't want to stay in bed, so I got up and went for coffee before going to Top Man to buy new trousers. I thought things would be more simple there, but I was wrong. The waist on the twenty eight inch trousers was OK, but the crotch... Well, that's another story.

Matt Talbot

2009-08-24T14:03:00.001+01:00

On Saturday night we had the first Eyesclosed gig since the album recording, after five months of rehearsals. The show was on my mind all week, especially since the listening party. I arrived at our rehearsal studio at four o'clock to get my gear ready; I was supplying the bass amp for the night. I was feeling pretty good: my fingers were strong, my head was shaved, I had fresh strings on my bass, and a brand new black t-shirt on. Lar and Ross from Two Tales of Woe came up at around half four, and helped moving gear. They brought a fifty euro trolley that they bought in Lidl for carrying the speaker cabinets, and it made a world of difference. Normally setting a stage up for a gig is a little stressful, but things ran very smoothly. Everything fell into place, with only a few small hiccups here or there. Sound checks rolled around eventually, and we finally got up onstage for the first time in our new incarnation. We have three guitars now, so it was a little difficult to get a sound balance onstage. My bass was completely inaudible where I was standing, and we were having feedback problems with one of the drums. Still, we got those problems sorted out. There was nothing to do but wait. Death were playing over the PA (Human - their best album), which was a good omen. A Distant Sun came on first, really raw black metal kinda stuff. I was a bit too restless to really listen to them though, I always get impatient at gigs. At eleven o'clock, it was our turn to play. We let out a wall of feedback... And then I went as mental as I could possibly go for the first tune, which was far too mental. My hands were fine, but my body just cramped up severely in about ten seconds, and the sweat was pumping off of me. It didn't help that in my excitement I had managed to pull some of my strings out of tune. I don't think anyone noticed, though. I was having a whale of a time anyway, it was great to be playing and the crowd seemed to be really enjoying it. The only stressful moment came when it was time for my melodic backing vocals; I couldn't hear any note to tune against, only a wall of noise from the guitars and drums. I tried turning to my amp for a reference, but that didn't work, so I had to bluff it. I was a little disappointed, I was looking forward to having some proper vocal harmonies onstage. Before I knew it, the set was over. At the end, we let everything ring out, and I - in a moment of madness - kicked my bass, breaking my C string, which is impossible to replace in this city. It's my only regret. Anyway, we had played for about half an hour or thirty five minutes, and I was absolutely fucked. Everything I was wearing was soaked in sweat, right down to the bank notes in my pocket. Red Enemy and TTOW were amazing as well, I reckon that was the best night we've ever had in Fibber's.

Wandering Bear

2009-08-20T20:41:00.003+01:00

It was a long, long day today. I went into town this afternoon to do a poster run for the gig on Saturday, stopping in Ranelagh on the way for a cup of coffee with my da. Then it was off to the printers to collect the posters, which were waiting for me since yesterday. They only charged three quid for twenty black and white A3s, I was very impressed. The hard part was putting them up in places, things have changed since the last time I had a gig to promote. Before, you could go into any shop you wanted in town and stick something up on the wall, but now most places (or at least the good ones) have an arrangement with a local promotions company to have posters in special display cabinets only. Next time, that'll be what we'll use. Still, I managed to get some posters up around town, and I got a good few up in Fibber's, where the gig itself will be. I had a few hours to kill when I had finished, the band had a meeting scheduled at seven o'clock. I wandered around Waterstone's for what seemed like an eternity. I drank some coffee. I had a beer. In the end, the meeting didn't even happen - the guy who was coming down flaked out, without as much as a text message. I could have been angry, but I had just stumbled across an amazing little purchase in a chemist's on the way to the pub - a safety razor. My skin is just not able for all these fancy modern razors, all they do is cause irritation. Everywhere I check online says that using a razor with as few blades as possible is the way to go, and you can't get any fewer than one, can you? It's very intimidating-looking though, you could seriously cut your throat with the blades. I suppose even if it does all go pear-shaped and I end up killing myself trying to have a shave, I'll enjoy the irony of having died using a "safety" razor.

The Car Pool Lane

2009-08-19T22:17:00.002+01:00

Any of my friends will tell you: I am terrible at answering my phone. It all started years ago, when I first got a mobile, and was obsessed with it. Eventually, the excitement of getting a text or a phone call became too much, and I turned the ringtone (my first phone didn't have vibrate) off. It's a bit of a twisted logic, but it made every phone call or text a surprise when I picked the phone up. I like to think I've grown up a little now - by and large I miss phone calls nowadays just because I either don't hear the damn thing, or because I have the vibrate accidentally turned off. So the other day, I missed a phone call from a number I didn't recognise, coming from the UK. I tried calling back, but the number was busy, and texting bounced back. It was all a little mysterious, so I made sure to have my phone at hand to answer the next time. After missing the next call, and the next, and so on, I eventually managed to answer, two days after this all started. It was Oxfam, wondering why my direct debit had ended. Bastards. It reminded me of the time I switched my phone from O2 to Vodafone and was forced to sit through a twenty minute customer satisfaction survey outlining the reasons for my switch. These people just won't take no for an answer.

Val Verde

2009-08-18T15:09:00.004+01:00

I was working out in the back garden this week with my da, as part of our yearly hedge cutting. Today, we decided to tackle the enormous ivy plant that had enveloped the boiler house we have, and it was a really horrible job. It had rained overnight, and everything was still wet and covered in mud. The ivy was everywhere. It had been a few years since we cut it last, and it had become completely out of control. There was loads of rubbish in amongst the leaves; sweet wrappers mainly, but also a shoe. I suppose one of the students who stays in the house occasionally must have thought it would be funny to throw it out the window. One time they threw cushions out. Speaking of trimming things, I also managed to shave my head last night. My skin was in bits from the last time I did it, at the start of the summer, and needed a lot of time to recover. I was nervous doing it, but even after a long break shaving your head with a razor is very much like riding a bike: as long as you're careful, you won't end up cutting yourself to bits.

Beat Detective

2009-08-16T11:58:00.004+01:00

I think the listening party on Friday was a success. It was incredibly stressful though, luckily it isn't the kinda thing we have to do very often. There was a really great crowd, which was a big relief - I was terrified nobody would come. I bumped into loads of old friends who I hadn't seen in a while, and met some nice people. It was also the first time that I had heard the finished master of the album in its entirety. I was a little anxious at the start, but all in all, I think it sounded pretty good, and everyone who I spoke to seemed really impressed. I had to leave by around eleven o'clock, my hosting duties had left me worn out. I wouldn't mind, but trying to keep everyone entertained kept me from talking to people who I had actually invited. It's very hard to strike a balance. I spent most of yesterday in Track Mix Studios out in Clonsilla, recording a little something for a friend of mine. What we were working on is meant to be a secret, so I can't really go into too much detail on the off chance that the person for whom we recorded the tune reads this. I had brought my bass with me, but the engineer had a gorgeous American Fender P-Bass that I ended up using instead. It was just really enjoyable to play, I wish I could get away with using one more often. The second take of the tune was the one we used, all my recording was done in ten or fifteen minutes really. It was a disastrous journey home, though - it took an hour and a quarter to get back into town and the bus was packed the entire way. Blanchardstown really is the worst designed urban area I think I've ever been to. How often is it that you say something like that? I'm looking forward to the week ahead though, I have a gig on Wednesday in Bewley's, and the first Eyesclosed gig of the year on Saturday. My only worry is that my neck isn't quiet one hundred percent, I hurt it a while back and I mightn't be able to rock out like I used to. Maybe I should just invest in some Deep Heat and hope for the best.

Ice-nine

2009-08-13T18:16:00.004+01:00

Wednesday was not a good day - I found out that I wasn't accepted for the master's course in Trinity. At first I was horrified, but after a few minutes of staring at the computer screen in shock I realised that the world had not come to an end. At least I can say that I tried my best, there isn't anything I would change about any part of my application, except that maybe I should have included a sizeable bribe. Moving on, today is the day of the band's album listening party in Bruxelle's. I'm feeling pretty apprehensive. This is the first party that I've been involved in as a host since my sixteenth birthday shindig all those years ago. I can't remember the exact details of the night, but I remember some of the boys came in drag (my birthday is the day before Halloween, after all) and my neighbour thought they were fine looking girls. Either way, I still feel stressed. For one thing, I'm a little worried about my hosting etiquette. Do I need to hover around the room, making sure people are having a good time? What are people meant to be doing when the album is actually playing?

Unit 731

2009-08-11T12:31:00.003+01:00

I watched a seriously fucked up film with Dave last night - Men Behind The Sun. It's set in one of the murkiest areas of recent history for Western audiences - the Japanese occupation of China leading up to the end of the Second World War, and their secret research and development of bacterial weapons. I don't want to give the whole story away for anyone who wants to watch the film, but it was seriously difficult to watch. The film revolved largely around a series of tests the Japanese performed on Chinese prisoners, who were referred to as "maruta" - the Japanese word for "logs" - by the scientists. The prisoners were literally used as objects to be experimented on, they weren't thought of as people at all. Apart from pretty graphic depictions of human experimentation, the film also had some pretty gut-wretching (and unsimulated) scenes involving animals. I won't go into details here, some of you might be a little squeamish. I suppose the worst thing of all about the film is that it was based on real-life events. After the war, the Americans refused to charge the men involved on war crimes charges: unable to perform human experimentation themselves, the information gleaned from the Japanese experiments was vital to developing biological technology. I wonder how much of that filtered through to modern medicine. On a happier note, Hytham was interviewed on Phantom FM last night about the album. He sounded great, I was really pleased with how it went. Our first gig back is coming up, I'm getting excited. Here's the poster:

The Pope's Revenge

2009-08-08T17:50:00.002+01:00

I had a genuinely unpleasant afternoon yesterday, as I was doing my monthly rounds collecting rent for the rehearsal room. It was a hot, humid day, and I went on my travels wearing a black leather jacket, a black t-shirt, and skinny jeans. My first port of call was Dave's office in Windy Arbour, only accessible to me by the Luas, so I decided to walk to the first stop up in Sandyford and take a tram. I also decided to take the scenic route, which is about two and a half miles long. Big mistake. By the time I had reached Foxrock village I was absolutely dying in the heat, and by the time I had reached the Luas stop itself a ten euro note in my pocket was damp with sweat. Not a good buzz. All in all, it took me well over three hours to get everything together and lodged into the studio owner's account. With that out of the way, it was time for rehearsals. The band finally have our first gig since recording the album coming up, in Fibber's on the 22nd. I'm really looking forward to it, the jam last night sounded really good. The album listening party is also this week, I have to get around to passing out invites. It's gonna be a busy few days.

Via Appia

2009-08-07T00:12:00.002+01:00

I was out on a date tonight, one of those roughly bi-monthly occurrences. It was very nice, although I won't be writing about it - I'm not Carrie Bradshaw after all. The main drama occurred in my preparations for the evening. I was having a shower, and minding my own business. My phone was in the bathroom with me, on top of the sink, in earshot in case I got a call. I learned my lesson from the other month, when it got soaked after dropping on the shower floor. Either way, I got out of the shower, dried myself off, and got dressed. I sent a message to the girl from the date to arrange where we were going to meet or whatever, when the phone stopped responding. The thing took on a life of its own - random numbers would appear on the screen, and when I tried texting it would turn the mobile internet on of its own accord. I opened it up and used a hairdryer on it to blow out any moisture that might have gotten in, but to no avail. I ended up borrowing one of my ma's old phones. I left my gaff early to catch a bus and to make sure I got into town on time... Or at least that was the theory. I ended up waiting three quarters of an hour for the bus, and I ended up fifteen minutes late. Not exactly the James Bond entrance I was hoping for, but I survived.

Howard Beale

2009-08-03T13:18:00.003+01:00

I went out to my friend Tara's gig in the Button Factory last night. I hadn't been there since last year, when I played in the first incarnation of her band. It was a much slicker affair this time around, there was a proper light show and the sound was really great. It was nice to hear some of the songs we used to play from the audience's point of view. The venue seems to have been pretty badly hit by the recession though, after the gig a big sign came up saying that we were welcome to stay for the late night club. That never would have happened before. Unfortunately, I had to leave at this stage and I braced myself for a walk through the rain to the bus. As I was walking up George's Street, listening to my iPod, I glanced in the window of the Shebeen (which is a very nice pub) only to see my good friend and all-round nice guy Brian playing some jazz with my old Newpark teacher Tom Harte on guitar. I popped in for a few minutes to catch some of the tunes, and they played The Way You Look Tonight for me. I couldn't help but smile, it sounded like they were having a lot of fun. A woman standing next to me was totally caught up in the music and started clicking her fingers in a really exaggerated jazz hipster kinda style. It turns out they have a residency on Sunday nights, I might pop in more often.

Men Behind The Sun

2009-08-02T18:40:00.003+01:00

It's been a quiet weekend. The highlight so far was bumping into former Justice Minister Michael McDowell as I went for a coffee on Dawson Street yesterday morning. He saw me notice him, and scuttled past like a frightened crab. I don't really have a problem with the guy to be honest; his politics might be a bit mad, but at least he was honest. Metallica were playing Marlay Park, so I ended up in the Foggy Dew with the boys as they enjoyed their pre-gig drinks. After they left, I went home. At one point in the evening I ended up coming up with seaside-based puns on song titles online - my two favourites were "Sand By Me" (my friend's) and "A, B, Sea" (mine). Today I went shopping for a cross-trainer with my ma and my brother. The first port of call was Argos in Dun Laoghaire, which couldn't guarantee home delivery within five weeks. Madness. A quick visit to an internet cafe led us a shop in Blanchardstown - Google Maps gave us wrong directions, and it was only after an hour's drive that we realised that the place was shut. We're just gonna order one online.

Hand on the Torch

2009-07-31T13:58:00.005+01:00

It was a bit of a strange night last night. I was playing in Bewley's theatre, and I was looking forward to a pleasant enough evening. For one thing, I only had to bring my bass, the first time in years that I didn't have to carry any backline to a gig. I arrived early enough and hung out with a few mates who were there. It's a very nice room and everything, so it's a pleasant little spot to kill some time in. We got a brief little soundcheck, and we were onstage by half eight. The gig itself felt like it was going OK, bar a few little mishaps here and there. The stage was absolutely sweltering hot underneath an array of lights, so I came off and went to the bar for a well-deserved non-alcoholic Erdinger. After a few minutes the other band (Vein Melter - it's the name of a Herbie Hancock tune) came on, and absolutely laid waste to the place. Everything was really arranged and super-tight, and with every amazing thing that came up in their set, I felt a surge of relief that we didn't have to go on after them. I left a few minutes after they wrapped up, and helped our guitar player Shane with some of his gear. He was moving into a new gaff in Phibsborough, so there was a little confusion about which bus stop he was going to go to. We ended up on the far end of O'Connell Street, where I left him on his way. I ambled over to my stop, convinced that I had plenty of time to catch the last bus - after all, it was only going on twenty five past eleven. It was only at twenty five to twelve that I bothered to even look at the timetable, and realised that the last bus for me had actually left at twenty past eleven, a good ten minutes earlier than usual. I was horrified, especially considering I had my bass on my back and I didn't fancy either walking home with it or paying for a taxi. So I decided to drop my gear off in the studio and hop on a Luas as far as Sandyford and walk home from there. I must have been caught in a time-warp or something, because somehow it took me two hours to get home from when I realised that I had missed the bus. Not pleasant.

Delia Derbyshire

2009-07-28T14:34:00.003+01:00

I had my Trinity interview today. It was set for quarter past twelve this afternoon, which made Sunday's Observer horoscope interesting reading:

Laid back or put upon?

If you're pining for clear skies, while jumping every time that the boss barks, don't sweat the small stuff; keep your attention on building professional alliances, your scope's principal focus until your birthday. At work or off duty, lunar power makes Tuesday noon to Thursday evening a time to assert your mesmeric brand of charm. Bring on the Scorpio mystery.

With this in mind, I arrived at the office for the interview at twelve o'clock, just in time for the Scorpio charm to kick in. I was wearing my suit with my wicklepickers, was freshly showered and shorn, and trying to project an air of confidence. The secretary was super-nice, although I was a bit surprised when she called me "Patrick" rather than "Paddy" - I suppose that was the name I used on my application in the first place. I kept on reminding myself to maintain eye contact, give a firm handshake, stand up straight, and to think before I spoke; stuttering would have destroyed my image. I waited for my interview in a corridor, wilting in the heat. After a few minutes of collecting my thoughts, it was time for the interview. Eye contact, firm handshake, good posture, no stuttering. I was glad to be dressed up. No matter how the interview went, at least I could say I looked good. Everything went by in a blur. The interview was to be ten minutes long, and was being timed on an iPhone. I couldn't help but be impressed, even though I know any basic phone has a stopwatch. I thought I handled myself fairly well anyway, with just the right amount of confidence. The interviewers were very friendly, and laughed at any funny remark I made. Toward the end of the interview, there was a quick ear training test. Some intervals were played on a piano, and I was asked firstly to sing them, and then identify them. I was worried, but everything worked out fine and I got them all right. Before I knew it, the alotted time was up and I was walking though the Trinity campus on my way to buy a subsidised copy of the Guardian.

However, this blog also marks the end of an era for me - to make sure I looked as professional as possible for my interview, I took my lip ring out last night. I got my lip pierced on New Year's Eve Eve, 1999, and we've had a lot of adventures together. The majority of my friends probably haven't even seen me without it at this stage. It feels odd without it, I don't remember my lip feeling so smooth. I look strange in the mirror too. At least the elderly seem far more friendly already.

Prime Suspect

2009-07-26T17:26:00.007+01:00

I had a really good rehearsal on Friday night. Dave and Hytham were busy at a meeting, so myself and Matt (our new drummer) ended up jamming for a while. The guy can play anything you throw at him, and we're starting to sound really tight. There's even a little video footage of us playing over one idea:

Saturday was pretty quiet, I spent most of my time in lust with Dave's new iPhone. It can do ANYTHING, and it looks seriously sexy as hell. Never before has a consumer product made me drool. We went to Dalkey that night, and sat in Bono's local (Finnegan's), having a few pints. The place was filled with Helen Mirren types (read: sexy auld ones) and rude middle aged guys with no sense of personal space. Today was pretty boring, though. The best thing on television was a country music festival showing on UTV, and in the space of ten minutes, I counted two separate guys onstage mimicking the sound of a train as part of a tune.

Albino Red

2009-07-23T10:14:00.004+01:00

I finally watched Bird the whole way through last night. I suppose I was foolish to think a film about Charlie Parker could have a happy ending. Great music though. I went to bed late (it's a long film), and dreamt all night long - the usual kinda stuff. In my last dream, I was in a van with my da (played by Colm Meaney), driving around at night without seatbelts. Of course, the police see us and give chase, but never catch up. We take a turn off of a main road to escape. The police are nowhere to be seen, so we go inside a house, presumably ours. There was a huge handwritten note on the wall just inside the door; it warned us that we might have gotten away this time, but we'll be caught eventually. The last line of the note read: "The night is a lovely theremin. (signed) The Law."

The Motherland Calls

2009-07-22T10:42:00.005+01:00

As is the case every few months, I'm going through a patch of very vivid dreams. I've smoked a pack of Major, I've been felt up by a guy at a Jackbeast apppreciation society, and worst of all, in last night's dream, I was asked to sit in with The Mars Volta on their Dublin date. This dream was completely realistic; I even went to Tower Records to buy the albums of theirs that I don't own so I could learn the tunes for the big show. You can imagine the disappointment I felt when I woke up in my crappy bed, with the mattress slipping off of the frame. Back in the real world, I sang my very first melodic backing vocals last night with the band. The last thing I sang in front of a group of people was probably my Scott LaFaro transcription from college a few years back, so I was pretty nervous. It's hard not to hate the sound of your own voice, but I think it began to sound better than a bag of cats by the end.

Krazee Eyez Killa

2009-07-14T15:06:00.002+01:00

I saw Brüno last night. It starts off incredibly funny, but trails off a little toward the end. They spoon-fed the audience a little though; Hitler jokes were explained like we were in a secondary school history class, and Elton John appeared at the end just to make sure everyone knew that the film was DEFINITELY NOT HOMOPHOBIC. Whatever happened to good old-fashioned moral nihilism?

The blank from hell

2009-07-13T10:09:00.000+01:00

Friday night was the night of the Whiskey Limbs EP launch, in Whelan's. I went for a beer with Dave in Solas (which used to be my favourite pub), only to find they don't sell non-alcoholic Erdinger anymore. Disaster. It looks like I'll have to find somewhere else to drink. The gig was great at least. Saturday was D-Day: the Oxegen show. I got into town at ten o'clock in the morning for a quick coffee and to run over my gear one last time. It was nice and relaxed, the weather was pleasant enough and I was feeling pretty confident about the gig. I had only packed one non-musical thing in my bag - toilet paper - so I wasn't worried about forgetting anything. At eleven o'clock, we packed my gear into Johnny's van:

Just before leaving, we got a phone call from Mark from the Electric Penguins - instead of getting three vehicle passes for the site, like was originally planned, we were now only getting two. This meant that we would have to stop in Blessington and pick up Barry, the piano player. We negotiated the traffic out of the city easily enough, and made our way to Barry's car. We loaded his piano into the back of the van, and he dutifully got in with it. It can't have been comfortable, but he didn't make a single complaint on the way. The trip from Blessington to the stage seemed like the longest part of the journey, even though as the crow flies we couldn't have travelled more than four miles. The stewards at the entrance gates were appallingly ignorant, one guy thought that we "didn't look like artists", and wouldn't help us, even though we had passes. After driving the perimeter of the festival, we eventually found our venue, the Ecogen tent:

It was pretty cool, with room for a couple of hundred people, and it was in a nice area of the festival too, away from the hoi polloi with their GAA jerseys and drunkenness. There were stands selling teas and coffees and organic frozen yogurts, and a stall selling African instruments like thumb pianos and balafons. We were given food vouchers, so a few of us set out to find the eating area or whatever. We had only been walking around for a few minutes, when it started to rain. I was only wearing a leather jacket, jeans and Converse, so I wasn't prepared for this at all, despite the weather forecast. I headed back to the shelter of the tent to keep dry. There was a series of films on; Pete Postlethwaite was in one. It was a bit depressing, but good nonetheless. Before I knew it, we were setting up our gear to go onstage. Things were a little cramped with all our gear; the stage was tiny and an odd shape:

Still, somehow everything managed to fit on, and we even got a quick line check. The first problem I noticed was my bass sound - there was none coming through the monitor onstage, it was all coming from my little amp. Apart from that, everything went smoothly enough. We started playing, and it was going fine, until maybe the fourth song of the night, which was a ballad kinda thing between guitar and vocals. The first chord rang out... And something was horribly wrong with it. The vibe of the song just died completely. I wasn't playing anything at this stage, so all I could do was stare at my shoes. For my bass solo, I couldn't hear a single note I played. It was completely distorted to bits, and I had to watch my hands to make sure I was playing in the right key. At the end, I took my bass off and pointed it at my amp and got some feedback, which was kinda cool. The rest of the set actually went OK, but I was disappointed that things went a lot better in rehearsals. We loaded all the gear back into the van, and I left for Dublin with the lads. I was dropped off at The Square in Tallaght, where I could get a bus home. As I was waiting for the bus at the shelter, a teenage boy was doubled over in a corner getting sick. I can't help but feel the Kings of Leon don't have to deal with stuff like that.

The Third of May After Goya

2009-07-10T13:57:00.003+01:00

With the Oxegen gig tomorrow, it's been seriously hectic since yesterday. The absolute final Electric Penguins rehearsal for the set was last night. I always worry about last rehearsals, if anything goes seriously wrong for any reason it can freak you out before you go onstage. Luckily, everything went really smoothly, at least in terms of our performance. Unfortunately, details surrounding the gig are a little sketchy. I can't really worry about it now, so I'm just going to take care of everything on my end and hope for the best. We wrapped up jamming a few minutes early, and I went down to The Temple Bar to meet my friend Anna Lena, who was in Dublin. She works as a videographer on a cruise ship, and they had docked here for the day. I had never been in that pub before, but it was a good buzz. They had some live music in the corner and loads of people from the boat were there. The fun was cut short by boat's draconian curfew, though - if you're five minutes late coming back, you are barred from leaving for FIVE DAYS. I suppose they have to run a tight ship, so to speak. I woke up early this morning to take care of my gear for the show. I made sure everything was working, and I glued and matchsticked (it's a technical term, look it up) my strap buttons. I went down to my mate Val's house afterward to pick up my amp. The bus home was packed full of people with prams, crutches, and huge shopping bags - none of whom could seem to get past me without pushing and shoving and giving me dirty looks. I just ignored them, it's not like I could move my amp anywhere. I have to go now and beautify myself - tonight is the release gig for The Whiskey Limbs' EP in Whelan's. It should be a good buzz, as long as nobody tries to force me to dance.

Boo Boo's Birthday

2009-07-09T12:12:00.002+01:00

According to the Irish Times, the weather is going to be abysmal this weekend at Oxegen. It's a bit of a worry, it's difficult to balance looking good with being sensibly dressed for bad weather. The Electric Penguins had the final full rehearsal last night. Onstage, we'll have:

- 6 synthesizers
- An electric piano
- A sampler
- 3 guitars (two acoustic, one electric, and all of Johnny's pedals)
- A bass (luckily, I don't have to use anything fancy)
- 2 amps (for the bass and electric guitar)
- A drumkit (which will need five mics)
- 4 vocal microphones (that includes one vocoder)
- A laptop (a very sexy Macbook Pro)
- A mandolin
- A melodica
- A Stylophone

It's a very complicated setup; I hope we have a very sympathetic sound engineer on the night.

Ugly Beauty

2009-07-07T23:02:00.002+01:00

I had a bit of an accident today, as I was in the shower. It was nothing as dignified as slipping on a bar of soap or anything - I dropped my phone. Let me clarify. I do not actually hold the phone in the shower or anything, but I leave it on top of the shower frame (there's a gap) so if someone rings I can hear them and answer. On this occasion, my phone was jarred by something, and dropped to the floor. The parts were scattered all over the place, and the phone got a proper soaking. It worked OK for a few minutes, but stopped working on my way into rehearsals tonight. That nearly put paid to my shower-phone ambitions, but miraculously the phone started working again when it dried out properly. So next time you call me and you hear a distant sound of running water in the background, I'm probably naked. I hope that isn't a problem.

Brilliant Corners

2009-07-07T14:34:00.004+01:00

I was walking to this bus stop today, minding my own business, when this enormous Garda (an Irish policeman, in case you didn't know) came out of nowhere and scared the shit out of me. No, I wasn't under arrest for being too handsome, it was my cousin Philip from Kerry. He's stationed up at Dun Laoghaire, and was filling in for the local police on a traffic accident. He told me some stories that would make your eyes water. He's going to be working at Oxegen, I told him to pop along to the gig if he's around. Standing at the bus stop, I saw nothing other than the Google Street View car going past, with its enormous panoramic camera on top. I hope I look good if they use the picture, I'll be keeping an eye out for myself. At Blackrock Shopping Centre, I saw someone who looked just like recently elected MEP Joe Higgins coming out of Superquinn. I nearly went up to say hello, but I bottled it. On the way home, the Gardaí were called to a bus - some absolute knacker was accused of calling the driver a "black bastard", and was denying it strenuously. Of course, once she was taken off the bus and the Gardaí walked away, she called him a "black bastard" and a "monkey", offering proof if proof was needed that man really did evolve from apes.

Hornsey Lane Bridge

2009-07-06T10:36:00.004+01:00

With the gig at Oxegen only five days away, we finally arranged all the Electric Penguins tunes for live performance last night. I was worried how some of the music would transfer, but I think it's all worked out pretty nicely. I use a plectrum on one tune, I play it too well with my fingers and it needs a bit of greasiness. When I came out of the studio to go home, town was an absolute warzone. There were scumbags marauding the streets asking for change (and when you hadn't got any, cigarettes) and roadworks on D'Olier Street holding up all the traffic. I eventually got on a bus in one piece, only to be delayed by the Rod Stewart gig at the RDS, and it was an hour after leaving the studio that I got off the bus. I was ever so slightly tense walking back from the stop; my shoulder was sore and I was feeling tired. As I walked up to my estate, a guy jumped out from around the corner in front of me, and started making gun gestures with his hands. I was seriously thinking how easy it would be to use my bass as a weapon when I realised that it was my old friend Matt playing a joke on me. He's back in Ireland from the summer while doing his Master's degree in Lucerne. I nearly had a fucking heart attack, I get too edgy sometimes.

Blixa Bargeld

2009-07-04T18:12:00.005+01:00

Today has been my first day off of rehearsals since Thursday last week, and even though I've been complaining to all and sundry about being tired, I've been a little bored without having tunes to work on. I ended up braving town this afternoon and buying a pair of shoes. So I'm kinda glad it looks like I'll be jamming for the next few days. The Electric Penguins set ends with a bass solo now - I put my bass through some pedal or whatever, with the distortion on maximum, and wail away. It gets a little Einstürzende Neubauten-y towards the end, I worry how appropriate that will be in a tent full of tea drinkers and Eamon Ryan, TD.

The Contest

2009-07-01T13:28:00.005+01:00

My mother was really happy with her birthday present, so that was a big relief. In fact, I think she's wearing the sunglasses right now. I have more rehearsals with the Electric Penguins tonight. If I'm not mistaken, we're about five songs into the nine song set at this stage, so we're on schedule to have the full set ready for dress rehearsals by the start of next week. We have the hardest tune to work on tonight, it has a really important 808 loop in it which will probably necessitate the use of a click track. It should be fine, though. The Eyesclosed rehearsals are also going well - we're on the verge of actually having a set together. I'm itching to get playing, so I'm really pleased. Hytham (our singer, for any strangers reading this) is currently on holiday with his missus in Edinburgh, so myself and Dave planned a hoax on him - we drew up a fake email from artist working on our album artwork, outlining a sudden change in the direction, complete with a "new" cover idea and everything:

He didn't buy it.

MILF Island

2009-06-30T23:58:00.002+01:00

I did a lot of shopping today - it's my mother's birthday tomorrow (actually, since it's past midnight, today) and I hadn't gotten her anything yet. I met my brother Joe outside Brown Thomas and headed in. After years of buying gifts, we had started to paint ourselves into a corner with respect to birthday present options; we've picked out purses, handbags, jewellery, watches, make-up, vouchers... We needed a fresh idea. The solution? Sunglasses. Working in McGowan's all those years ago, I found an old air of fake Chanel sunglasses that I ended up giving to my mother (apologies if the owner is reading this now), so we decided we should buy her a real pair. Hopefully she'll like them, but even if she doesn't, she can exchange them for shop credit. The whole process only took twenty minutes, leaving me in town with a few hours to kill. After a coffee and a copy of the Irish Times , I decided to buy a wrist band - for my bass. As it has loads of strings, I occasionally run into problems onstage with unwanted noise and such. Wrapping a wrist band around the end of the neck eases this. The only problem was finding one. I was told about a stall on Wicklow Street that sells them, but all the black ones had skulls on them. My second port of call was Topman, where I found a pack of two wrist bands for €8. Now I just had to endure the shame of buying the damn things. I was going to tell the guy behind the counter that I was buying them "for my bass, honest", but it didn't sound believable. At least they actually do make a big difference.

Imre Nagy

2009-06-30T12:42:00.002+01:00

I've been trying to find more information about where I'll be playing at Oxegen - all I know is that the show will be in the "Ecogen Area", whatever that is. So I stuck my Googling hat on, and went looking for details. This little snippet of information comes directly for the Oxegen website:

OXEGEN fan Eamon Ryan TD, Minister for Communications, Energy and Natural Resources will again be attending the event this year. He comments:

We need to lift Ireland’s spirits, get it rocking again, and OXEGEN has the right formula. It’s sustainable, it’s green and it’s fun.

I’m looking forward to visiting the new ECOGEN area at the festival and announcing the winners of the ‘Rock the Environment’ Competition. So be creative, make a video, get your message out there and be part of turning OXEGEN Green.

What a fucking arsehole.

Dr. Max Huber

2009-06-27T20:34:00.002+01:00

Another gorgeous day today... I had my usual Saturday morning coffee with my da, but the café is starting to bother me - every week, without fail, they have Massive Attack's Protection playing over the stereo. I'm sick of it. I went to the studio afterward for a quick jam over some riffs from the album, and met my old friend So-young in the afternoon. I hadn't seen her since February, so it was nice to catch up. We had a very civilised coffee on the street outside Carluccio's. Of course, it was only a matter of time before some homeless dude asked for change, but I stayed calm. Afterward, we went browsing for a birthday gift for my mother. We popped into the Swarovski shop for a second, where you can buy a crystal ape (seriously, I couldn't make it up) for a few hundred euro. I couldn't help but wonder how the glass animal statue market has been affected by the recession.

Ralf Und Florian

2009-06-26T13:17:00.004+01:00

I had the first Electric Penguins rehearsal last night. I wasn't at all sure what to expect. The studio was just off of Capel Street, in the one part of Dublin that I don't know too well. Myself and my friend Johnny (who's playing guitar) arrived at the appointed time of six o'clock, and the drummer Gareth appeared soon after. The rehearsal room is above a fruit market building, it looks very rock and roll. Gareth's kit was there, and it's very impressive - he uses some very John Bonham-esque acrylic shells, and has a 26" bass drum that sounds amazing. The three of us had a jam before the others showed up, it was nice to get a feel for how everyone played together. The main guys (Mark, Paul and Barry) turned up after a while, with an battery of synths in tow. We set everything up, and got playing. The main difficulty is getting the proper sounds together, and making arrangements to help parts translate more clearly into a live setting. At least the bass is easy - all my sheet music notes for the set fit on two pages of A4 manuscript. At about half ten or so, I left to head home. Capel Street is a bit dodgy at night, so I felt a little uneasy carrying my gear. As I came up to Abbey Street, I saw a greasy looking dude sneaking out of one of the sex shops. Who goes to those places anymore? The nearest bus stop for me was at D'Olier Street, I popped into the shop there for a bottle of Snapple. As I was in the queue, I felt a buzz in my pocket - I had gotten a message on my phone. It was from my friend Rachel, telling me that Michael Jackson had died. Everyone on the street was talking about it. One girl ran past, screaming "it's not true, it's not true." It's just a shame the guy never got a chance to redeem himself onstage, people forget how great a performer he was.

Frobisher Crescent

2009-06-25T14:09:00.005+01:00

I got an email when I was in London over the weekend about a gig - at Oxegen. It would have been very hard to refuse, I've never played a big festival before. The band are called the Electric Penguins - apparently that was the secret code to get into Paul McCartney's gaff back in the 1960s. I get an early Kraftwerk kinda buzz off them, which I really like. We'll be playing at around five o'clock on the Saturday evening, so hopefully we'll have a good crowd. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds are playing that night too, so I'll probably be able to go see them after depending on how things work out. Rehearsals start tonight, I'm looking forward to it. I got sent the album yesterday, and I had it pretty much learned after a couple of listens; the bass is pretty simple. The difficulty will be in transferring the sound into a live situation - I'm not sure, but we could be playing as a six or seven piece band onstage. It'll be fun, anyway.