The Rory Gallagher Podcast

CPI Archive 2008: Rising out of the ashes: Andrew Hamilton caught up with former Revs front-man, Rory Gallagher, and found out about his slow redemption in Lanzarote and the Clare man who saved his career.

THERE was a moment when everything went black for the Revs. After cornering the Irish tiny-rocker market in the early breaths of the naughties - the boys from Donegal soon discovered that everything they touched no longer turned to gold. They were growing older, and with that their music had started to change and mature. The decision that presented itself was both simple and brutal; stay frozen in time like a musical Peter Pan and keep selling records or, be true to themselves, change styles and take the chance of falling into obscurity. They chose the latter, and like so many decisions made with righteous intent, they paid the price. Their final twist came early last year, in a small German town, in the middle of the bands last tour. One morning, in the early German mist, a line was drawn in the sand. Staying put meant a short walk to the tour bus where their manager was waiting patiently, while stepping over that line meant a trip to the airport and a quick yet still painful death. “The weird thing about it is that it never came to a total close. We never really fell out or never really broke the band up per say. It just went really stale. We went through three managers in six years and we were just running out of options. I sensed it was over when we were in Germany - our third album was doing much better over there than it was in Ireland. We were touring around there and playing some really good gigs but, at the same time, we were all coming home from there with €100 each for a tour. That’s tough when you are turning 26 or 27,” said Rory. 

CPIArchive2008b · The Rory Gallagher Podcast

Unseen Sounds: The Breakdown Rambler Podcast

CPI Archive: Unseen Sounds: Breakdown Rambler.

BANDS are like families right? Well, if so, allow me to introduce the Breakdown Rambler clan. A mixed marriage of folk and rock, the family is held together by twin sons, trad and funk, perpetually screaming for attention the back seat of the car, while old grandpa blues sleeps gently in his rocker. This, you might say, is a long way to go for a simple image, but in my experience there’s nothing like the gratuitous use of a metaphor to perk the interest for what’s to come... “We all got together in college and met through the MusicSoc up in Galway. Niall and Fiachra were doing a lot of busking at the time and one night we got drunk together in the GPO and said fuck it, we’d form a band. We were a long time looking for a drummer until we found Guillaume - and then the civil service stole him. It’s true actually, every member in the band is a civil servant bar me,” said Joycey. 

CPIArchive2008b · Unseen Sounds: The Breakdown Rambler Podcast

The Seneca Podcast

CPI Archive 2008: As they prepare to take on America this autumn, Andrew Hamilton has a little Q&A with Liscannor-based band Seneca. 

Seneca: statesman, stoic and advisor to Nero. As unlikely as it may seem, there would appear to be some genuine parallels between the Roman philosopher who lived in the time of Christ and the local band that shares his name. Like the philosopher, this Clare, Limerick and Mayo hybrid have had to graft hard to find their place in the sun. Both also possess a fine command of language, an ear for the philosophical and both left their place of birth in search of success and fame. AH: So tell us, how did Seneca come into the world? Rob: Well we have been going together for about three years now. Brendan is from Scariff and Daragh is from Sixmilebridge and we all came together down in Limerick. I’m from Mayo myself and myself, Daragh and Yvonne, the base player, had been in a band before who broke up.  

CPIArchive2008b · The Seneca Podcast

The Dandy Warhols Podcast

CPI Archive 2008: In Fathead Bohemia. Andrew Hamilton caught up with Brent “Fathead” DeBoer of the Dandy Warhols and chats about recording pressure, the mysterious Odditorium and the love/love relationship with My Bloody Valentine.

GREAT conifers give way to concrete at the confluence of the Willamette and Columbia rivers. There, in the shadow of the green mountains, lies Portland - town of many horizons. Over rock to the north is Seattle and the cold razors edge of grunge and post-punk. Yet, a short migration south brings San Francisco, with the heavy heat of Golden Gate Park and a flower on every musician. The baby bear in this musical Goldilocks zone, Portland is neither too hot nor too cold. It may rain all year round but, musically at least, the weather there is just right. There, from the cold steal of the Fremont Bridge, the great Odditorium comes into view. A mass of amps, video cameras and ashtrays - the Odditorium is a meeting ground for the creatives and home of the Dandy Warhols. “There was the same pressure recording this album as it always has been - it’s just a constant stream of decision after decision. I mean we are always trying to make the grooviest record that we possibly can,” said Brent DeBoer of the Dandy Warhols. 

CPIArchive2008b · The Dandy Warhols Podcast

The MP3Hugger Podcast

A Clare-based blogger has begun a revolution in music. Andrew Hamilton talks to MP3Hugger about the release of his first record and the true meaning of independent music.

THERE are points in history that resonate long after they have past. On June 10, 1789, the Communes of Paris rose up in revolution and in an instant gave the people of the world the values of liberty, equality and fraternity. On August 6, 1945, a small metal device called ‘Little Boy’ landed on the rural Japanese city, ending one war, but shaping decades of politics that have yet to fully play out. June 13, 1985 was one such day. On that day in Wembley Stadium, the eyes of the world watched as art stopped imitating life and began instead, to shape it. It was on that day also that U2 stepped up, and in twelve and a half minutes of musical perfection transformed themselves from mere musicians to musical and cultural icons. But there was an even greater resonance. U2s Live Aid performance helped launch thousands of new bands in hundreds of countries. And with that, the musical journey of the MP3Hugger. “I guess I’ve always been mad into music and indie music in particular. I remember going to college back in Galway and really getting into The Wedding Present and Toasted Heretic, people like that. But ever since I watched Live Aid back in 1985 and watching that U2 performance, I don’t know, I guess since then music has just meant something special to me,” said the MP3Hugger.

CPIArchive2008b · The MP3Huggar Podcast

The Nanci Griffith Podcast

CPI Archive 2008: Nanci Griffith is a phenomenon of country music. The Grammy winner chats candidly to Andrew Hamilton about beating cancer, the Blue Moon Orchestra and what she likes to call the Irish factor. 

TEXANS are hard-headed creatures. At their best, they can be stubborn old dogs - never ready to admit defeat or raise the white flag. At their worst, well, at their worst their sheer single-mindedness and determination can be overwhelming, almost in fact to the point of nausea. There’s more than a touch of that single-mindedness in Nanci Griffith. A daughter of Austin - home of the City Limits, South by Southwest and the infamous 6th Street clubs - she possesses a unique cultural geography; the hardness of Texas and the softness of Austin. It’s a combination that has clearly worked. Having spent decades using her Austin side to graft her way to the top of the country music pile she was struck down with breast cancer back in 1996. After digging deep and beating that off, she was struck again in 1998, this time with thyroid cancer. It was at this time that the thick- skinned Texan came to the fore. “It was tough but you get through it,” said the 55-year-old. “It effects you, I think it changes you. But in a good way. I think that it teaches you to live in the moment and enjoy every minute of your life. If it’s not fun don’t do it."

CPIArchive2008b · Nanci2021

The Gorbachov Podcast

CPI Archive July 2008: As he packs his bags for a two week Latvian odyssey, Gorbachov’s Alan Hennessy took five minutes to share his thought on Rage Against the Machine, Waterford and the pressures of being Ireland’s best young band. Words by Andrew Hamilton.

WHEN the Soviets held sway in the east - and the cold hands of Stalin and Malenkov gripped nations beneath the hammer and the sickle, the land, it seemed, was at peace. Held together by fear, the communist nations were silent places - devoid of unauthorised festival and music. When Bethel in west New York, Woodstock to you and me, exploded into three days of music and peace in the autumn of 1969, the communists, for once, had no answer. But much has changed in Eastern Europe since those dark days and festivals like Exit in Serbia and Sziget in Budapest are now among the biggest and best in the world. It is perhaps slightly fitting then that an Irish band called Gorbachov (purposely misspelled I’m told) should now be undertaking a festival mission out east. “We are heading over to the Salacgriva AB Festival which is the Latvian version of Oxygen or the Electric Picnic. It’s great, we have four or five dates in Latvia then over the next few weeks. Fatboy Slim is playing at the festival on the same day we are playing and the Manic Street Preachers are playing the day before. There will be a heap of Latvian bands as well of course,” says Alan. 

CPIArchive2008b · The Gorbachov Podcast