Author

James

Browsing

The Ocelots: “if there was a €15 flight to any city, we’d go there”

The Ocelots – Wexford brothers Ashley and Brandon Watson – are very much a product of their lifestyle. Having come into music the hard way, they beat down doors across Europe as they travelled on the cheap for several years before professionalising their subtle and witty folk-rock narratives.

“Things were as chaotic as we were,” they say. “We did a thing where we found an apartment in Wexford, then we looked at Ryanair flights, and if there was a flight for €15 to any city, we’d go there for two weeks with almost no preparation. All we’d do is email every single person and venue that played music in the entire city to tell them we were there. As we were 17 or 18, we were naive enough to think people would welcome us. And some people did.”

“Two or three people saying they’d give us a gig is all we ever needed. Sometimes there was a lot of emergency AirBnBs, and extra hours of busking for somewhere to stay. It was quite an adventurous time.” 

“I guess we missed it when touring got more professional, because you kind of lose the sense of adventure when you’ve got an itinerary and soundchecks. Especially in places like Germany, Austria, Switzerland, the hosts cover you with amazing hospitality.” 

“There was one place in Edinburgh, when we walked in, and they were like ‘who are you guys?’. They sat us down and investigated. About an hour later someone walked in and put us in the corner to play in front of about three people. Then there was an argument about whether we got a payment of a burrito and an orangina or not.”

Things got a good deal more professional afterwards, with The Ocelots exploiting their experiences to make music full of personality and road stories, a kind of mesmerising and upbeat form of harmonised folk.

 “The change happened quite slowly to something more serious,” they say. “We’d played these seemingly terrible gigs in different places, but we’d played shows in Barcelona, Edinburgh, Munich, and it was a bit smoke and mirrors, a bit misleading, as it looked like we were a lot more professional than we were. We had played everywhere, just by looking for the right cafe. It got big enough that we did a few support slots, with people like Jack Johnson, and working with proper agencies, and then things started to change.”

“We wrote the second album in Covid when we had all this time. We practised with a metronome, all this stuff we’d never done before. We learnt production, and it was really wonderful, such a blessing, actually. It’s a mature album. The first album had songs that we wrote when we were teenagers, and it was released years later. We had changed as people. We’ve always had a big backlog, as the recording element was always such a challenge.”

“‘Everything, When Said Slowly’ [the new album] was recorded in 2023, and is the product of writing a lot of songs quite quickly. We’re both songwriters. The recording was the challenge, and it was important to get better at that.”

“Live was always so natural to us, and not all that challenging, so we were moving in the direction of being recording artists and giving the performances the energy they have live. It was something we struggled with, and still struggle with. We’re really excited about this album, because we get quite nerdy about other bands’ production, and we’ve been working towards that.”

“We can’t meet our standard of expectations, and we’ve scrapped a lot of stuff, but we’re much nearer the mark with the new one, close to who we want to be.”

Bagatelle: “There are births, marriages and deaths connected with the songs of Bagatelle”

From supporting Bob Marlay at Dalymount Park to iconic Irish hit ‘Summer In Dublin’, old-school rockers Bagatelle are on something of a slow road these days, but remain one of the most loved domestic acts, their songs a kind of story of their collective lives. The band lost vocalist Liam Reilly back in 2021, and their current shows are performed in memory of the frontman, as well as guitarist John O’Brien.

“We are celebrating the lives and the music of Liam Gerrard Reilly, and also our founding father, John Valentine O’Brien,” bassist Ken Doyle tells us. “After Covid, lockdowns, and the unexpected passing of Liam, I didn’t know which way was up or down, but thanks to many phone calls, emails, Facebook comments, messages of support and people stopping me in the street pleading with me not to give up, the songs are here as a soundtrack and a timeline to their lives.”

“There are births, marriages and deaths connected with the songs of Bagatelle, along with homesick Irish people, in far flung lands, who are transported back to Ireland through our music.”

Which is not to say the remaining members are standing still, new music simply isn’t being made public. “There were plenty of songs even before Liam’s passing,” Doyle says. “The problem is, because of 99 cent download, record companies are very scared of investing. It would take so long to recoup an investment. That means most music today is manufactured, which is killing the creativity of young musicians. It’s becoming sanitised.”

“The music scene that we started out in does not exist anymore,” Doyle continues. “There are great bands, great musicians, great singers, and not that many venues for them to make it work. I personally know of two very talented bands that had to throw in the towel, or starve. These creative people have no help or assistance to further their craft, and yet if they become successful, pats on the back will come out of the woodwork. Liam had a saying: ‘success has many fathers, and failure is an orphan.’”

Of course, there are a lot of memories that stand tall for Bagatelle. “There have been so many great moments,” Doyle says. “It’s hard to pick just one, but here goes. I’d have to split it between Bob Marlay at Dalymount Park, and Self Aid. That’s my compromised answer.”

“Sometimes I’m asked if I’m tired of ‘Summer In Dublin’, and I’m not. My answer will always be the same. I love that song, and always have since I first heard Liam play it on an out of tune upright piano in John O’Brien’s house in August 1978. There have been many emotional moments throughout the years on stages all over the world, witnessing the overwhelming reaction to that beautiful song, and hearing stories from our audience about how special it is for them for various reasons.”

As for playing live today, while half the band have passed, there’s a conscious effort to keep things the same. “We are continuing with the same format, but with male and female singers sharing the Bagatelle list of songs. The band is the same as it was with Liam and the singers were all friends with Liam,” Doyle says. “Liam was unique, irreplaceable. We continue by celebrating his amazing talent and legacy.”

“Our plans for Bagatelle and friends [the current guise of the band] is to continue to enjoy the music and friendship, the chemistry of the band, and also to continue to play and entertain the best audience in the world, ours. Thank you for all you’ve given us over the years, making hits out of our songs, and the undying support. Rock and roll never forgets.”

St Patrick’s Athletic (v Bohemians, Richmond Park)

Competition: League of Ireland Premier Division

Date: 4 July 2025

Result: St Patrick’s Athletic 0 – 0 Bohemians

Tickets:  €18 for adults and €5 for kids standing in the Camac Terrace (actually totals €25 due to unavoidable online booking fees)

Attendance: 4,090

Game/ Experience Rating:  ☆☆

The Game: Both these sides are perhaps a touch off form, and heading for mid to upper-mid table finishes in the League of Ireland (Bohs would probably be looking to scrape into Europe). This was the debut for Douglas James-Taylor, signed from Drogheda by Bohs, and also of the new Oasis-branded ‘cup’ shirt (a little odd seeing Bohs in blue, though I’m well aware there is precedent).

Basically, defences ran this game. The closest anyone really got to scoring was an offside goal for Pats and a fairly decent number of corners for each side. Pats has slightly the better of it on balance, controlling large swathes of the second half in particular, but really do lack any kind of cutting edge. Fairly poor all round – to be honest, football I’ve already forgotten the next morning.

The ground: Richmond Park is one of my favourite League of Ireland venues (alongside Bohs’ place Dalymount, as it happens). It’s just the right mix of run-down and old school, and modern enough not to feel like you’re standing in a total hovel – 80s ish. I like the murals inside and out, and the terraces down towards the stream. I like that it feels welcoming, and nice to see it close to a sell out, too.

Extras: I was quite surprised to see that the corner flag snack hut has been converted into a place that does crepes – that may have happened a while ago, I’m not a regular at Richmond Park. Quite a nice change of pace, though.

Assorted asides: I’m not sure how long it’s been since I last saw a goal in the League of Ireland, but it’s definitely in the 3-4 hours of football range. Some excitement, please, lads?!

My totals for the year so far:

Games: 5. Home wins: 1 Draws: 2 Away wins: 2

Goals: 8. Home goals: 3. Away goals: 5. Goals per game: 1.60

VIEW ALL GROUNDHOPPING POSTS HERE.

Saibh Skelly: “busking will always be a big part of my identity as a musician”

From performing covers on the streets of Dublin as a 14 year old, to supporting Hozier and appearances at the likes of the Olympia Theatre, Saibh Skelly’s rise in recent years has made her a real Dublin music one to watch. In her latest adventure, Skelly will appear twice at Dublin Castle on New Year’s Eve, helping to bring in 2025.

Looking back, it was an early exposure to performing that set Skelly up, but her focus has changed. “The busking was just random songs I chose to play, now it’s all about getting the set ready, working on what people want to hear, and doing it over and over until it’s time to go,” Skelly says. “I like to throw in a cover or two still for a bit of fun, so people can sing along. But I play what I think people will like, really fresh stuff.”

“I’m getting used to playing in the studio and recording, though I always wrote my own music. It’s a lot more personal and a lot deeper, so it does make me more nervous. My covers are also about things I relate to. I try to do a cool version of things, but also to go a little bit ‘undercover’ and less obvious with my covers.”

“The first time I went busking I was 14, I think, and I didn’t find it nerve wracking. Perhaps I was a bit naive. My poor mother was the one with the nerves. I saw it as an opportunity to play my music outside. I was either out on Grafton Street or playing in my bedroom, so I went out in front of people. My mum is the kind of person who’ll let me make my own decisions, so I learnt through experience. I’m glad I wasn’t held back. Busking will always be a big part of my identity as a musician, so I think it was the right decision.”

Since then, Skelly’s releases have ranged from covers like beat-led, Pink-esque pop ‘The Mirror’s Favourite’ and a cover of James TW’s ‘When You Love Someone’, a soul-bearing track that’s flown past a million Spotify listens.

Of course, thoughts turn, sooner or later, to recording in longer form. “Things have changed a lot, with TikTok being a big platform for releasing singles,” Skelly says. “I’m working on an album behind the scenes and looking for the right time to release it. I’m almost ready, but you need to wait for the right moment to do it.”

“I think the right moment is about knowing you have an audience there that will appreciate it, and buy tickets to see you perform the whole album live. TikTok is strange, people don’t get the whole song, it’s really short clips. You put a load of work into a three or four minute song, and you have to choose a part based on hooking people in the first three seconds.”

“I think people are writing songs that they think will connect with that trend. But that doesn’t matter so much to me. I think if I write a good song, people might like it quickly. I’m not going to write for social media.”

“I’ve seen artists take off from an unfinished clip of a song, which can make things a little more difficult for a musician, they have to connect with that five minutes. But there’s also a lot more opportunity to go from zero to a hundred in no time at all.”

Zoid: “It’s an inherently contradictory way of making music”

Daniel Jacobson’s second ‘Zoid vs Musicians’ album, entitled ‘Zoid vs Musicians Vol 2’, has been a long, long process. That fits, we suppose, with the unusual elements of the album: it’s knowingly niche, a blend of jazz and techno styles that doesn’t, in theory, make a lot of sense. But that’s kind of the point.

“The album took 17 years because I kept on leaving it and coming back to it,” Jacobson says. “I always knew I’d eventually finish it, but I need to jump around different projects to keep myself interested. At one stage I did nothing for four years, then did a couple of tracks, then got sidetracked, and so on. You can’t force yourself, you work to your own strengths.”

“I generated something like a backing track in most cases, and sent it to a musician. I’d email the backing track and they’d record themselves improvising over it. A couple of tracks were recorded in studios. There’s some improvisation, it’s all very loose,” he explains.

So are the roots, something of a self-created scene. “There is a jazz electronica scene, but it’s a hard thing to do well,” Jacobson says. “There are a couple of projects that do things well, especially live, but not many. Jazz is all about responding to each other, and electronic music is all about the creation of the producer in the studio, without that response. I try to make the electronics respond to the improvisations. But it’s inherently contradictory as a way of making music. Sometimes I kick myself.”

“The productions take a long time, simply because it wouldn’t work if the beats were very static. Making the production of the music respond in detailed ways to what a person is doing is important, something I’m always playing around with.”

“I have a label too, which is somewhat of a necessity making music. In my world you could send things to labels all day long for years, and it’s very hard to get someone to spend money releasing a record for you. Very few can even break even, so the label idea is kind of self defeating. You end up doing it yourself. I’ve only released two artists apart from myself, so it’s primarily about my own music, but if I come across something incredible that other people aren’t aware of, I have to try and do something.”

“For me, success is measured in being able to collaborate with certain people, through my profile, and I have managed that. It’s going in the right direction. I have a 2025 project that will have a few really lifelong dream remixes, but those are in the early days.”

“In some ways my freestyling and improvising connect to hip-hop. The best live performance, for me, is one that’s very much improvised, one that comes with risk. The audience get very drawn into that. Electronic music is famously hard to perform live, as it’s boring to watch someone stand on stage live and press play on a laptop.”

“One idea I’d have is to tour with two shows, an instrumental, jazz-type venue early in the morning, and then a techno, club-like set later.”

“I’d like to do more performances with gigs that feature the musicians. The way I do it means that I can have an awful gig. It has to be like that, if you’re gigging all the time, like Frank Zappa, you have to do six months of rehearsal before a tour. You have to be ready to turn it on if everything goes wrong. It’s about giving the audience their money’s worth. I like the idea of that, a show that works even in the worst scenario.”

Zoid vs Musicians VOl 2 is out now.

PostLast: “our songs gravitated towards a sense of wistful contentment”

Stepping away from their more regular projects, PostLast sees Julie Hough of fast-rising Irish experimentalists HAVVK and Stephen McHale of now defunct pop band BARQ combine to take their music into the realm of playful dream pop. A step away from both’s more established styles, it represents a firm change of direction, with spacey and beautiful EP ‘Pull Me Into The Open Sea’ firmly announcing their arrival.

“Starting PostLast was such a blank canvas so it’s exciting to see where it could go,” Hough says. “Working on something new totally took away any preconceptions of what the sound or vision would be. It is a vulnerable situation too, when you don’t fully know what the other person’s process or taste is going to be like. Even as we’re working on new songs, sending off new ideas – we tend to send ideas to each other remotely – is always a little nerve-wrecking, in a good way!”

“We began writing these songs without any defined direction of what they should sound like, or what the lyrical content should be, and I think the reason they gravitated towards a sense of wistful contentment was because of that lack of boundaries,” McHale explains. “Lyrically, the sea features heavily throughout, as do other themes of relaxation and life’s simple pleasures, such as board games and Halloween. It’s reassuring to know that creating without any sense of pressure resulted in something that contains more calm contentment than I would have expected from myself!”

“At the moment we’re working away writing for our debut album,” McHale continues. “We do have enough to do a live set for sure, but this project began and progressed a little differently from other projects we’ve been involved in in the past. We set out with the aim of just writing, recording, releasing, and enjoying the process, but we had no real sense of how the music was going to turn out or even if anyone would be interested in listening to it! We were always keen to play the songs live but the enthusiasm the songs have been greeted with over the last few months has made us realise how much we are looking forward to playing live!”

“Our live show is ambitious – and I say that both joyfully and with a little dread too,” Hough says. “We definitely want to perform live, but we didn’t necessarily write the songs with that in mind (lots of layered parts and backing vocals!). So when the day comes, I think we’ll be setting the bar pretty high in terms of a visual experience and will most likely have to hire about half of our friends to be in the live band too. Hopefully the other half will come and be in the audience.”

As for the firmly nautical angle, McHale says “Both Julie and I grew up on the west coast of Ireland so being absolutely battered by the sea and the weather in general was a consistent theme throughout both our childhoods!” 

“I think having the visual and sonic influence of the constantly changing and awe-inspiring Atlantic Ocean can’t help but be represented in our creative work. We really leaned into those ideas on the song ‘Headlands’, where the combination of the guitar rhythms, reversed reverb effects, and a vocal melody that floats above it all was intended to directly represent the feeling of being washed around by the sea.”

“I think there is a lot of wisdom in recapturing the sense of wonder you had when you were a child, before your ego got involved and made you worry about saying something stupid or putting yourself out there,” Hough adds. “That’s the kind of nostalgia we’re tapping into, learning from the childlike wonderment that we can lose along the way when we get older.”

‘Pull Me Into The Open Sea’ by PostLast is out now.

Tadhg Williams: “My live shows have to be medicinal”

Photo Abigail Ring

Celebrating both a big year and the launch of his long-overdue debut EP ‘This Record Is A Nixer’, imaginative folk singer Tadhg Williams is wearing both his Waterford roots and his Dublin home on his sleeve, as he seeks to echo the styles of Mick Flannery and Damien Dempsey.

“I don’t think there’s any mistaking where I’m from – the music in itself would tell you that, but I’ve kind of cut my cloth in Dublin as a songwriter,” Williams said. “I once had an interesting conversation with Junior Brother about this – I find it quite hard to write in Dublin, so when I go home to Waterford it can often feel like a writing retreat, things pour out of me a bit. But the things that pour out of me are things I have brought home with me from Dublin.” 

“‘Nixer’, for example, is about trying to pay my rent in Dublin. That was written in my childhood bedroom in Waterford. Sound wise as well, throughout college I played open mics and song cycles and sessions all over Dublin. I learnt a lot about the art of performance at those kinds of gigs. The only outlet growing up in Waterford was to busk.” 

“So all of those things blend into one I suppose. I’m at a stage now where I love both places, and am happy to call both places home. You still won’t find me in the home end of Dalymount or Tolka though… It’ll always be the away end when the Blues are in town.”

Those tracks might blend their geographical origin, but they also take on a particular focus on lyrics. “I kind of started as a poet, “Williams says. “I used to write a lot of spoken word, so lyrics have always been important to me. The spoken word was great because there wasn’t any real structure to it, as long as it rolled off the tongue well.” 

“Songs I personally find more of a challenge because you have to convey a message, a story, an emotion, in three and half minutes in a very structured way, and I enjoy that. I have lyrics floating around in note books, on the notes app on my phone, and a few chord progressions floating around as well – then they just kind of find each other. The melody appears somewhere during that process. I often wonder where melodies come from – I think they come from somewhere deeper, it’s kind of inexplicable.”

Williams’ on-stage performances, unlike the more delicate approach Williams often takes on record, will be lively. “The live show is nothing like the EP. It’s a much larger sound,” he says. “I’ll be playing with a full band – drums, bass, keys, electric guitar, the whole shebang.” 

“I’m a big fan of taking the songs I’ve written and developing them further, even after release. I’m obsessed with that Waterboys ideology of ‘the big music’, so I suppose I’m trying to emulate that a little bit with the live sound. They’re still folk songs at their core, but when people come to a live show they want something a little bit more than just to listen to some nice music.” 

“They want to come away from it feeling like they’ve actually experienced something. You need to give them something spiritual. That Damien Dempsey thing of ‘the singsong of the century’ every time he plays a show – people worship. I want people to come away from one of my shows feeling elevated! It has to be medicinal – people leave their worries at the door for the hour and a bit.”

Meryl Streek: “bands are afraid to have a voice”

Meryl Streek, the solo project of long-time touring musician Dave Mulvaney, are an atypical but notably modern act. With a distinctly boisterous, political bent to his spoken (/ shouting)-word lyrics, Mulvaney forcefully delivers his points over a backdrop of a laptop. Nonetheless, he’s more powerful in style than many more involved musicians, heavily echoing punk roots in the way his stage-front and audience-inhabiting performances punch pointedly through the static.

With second album ‘Songs For The Deceased’ out now, he’s still performing for a relative pittance (his upcoming Whelan’s shows are priced at just €15, and even his vinyl release is on the affordable end of the spectrum), a nod to Mulvaney’s ‘punching up’ identity, a ready-made man of the protesting people.

“I didn’t expect this reaction,” he tells us of the much-hyped record. “I came to this from 15 years playing drums touring, and I kind of lost faith in it. There’s no money in touring bands anymore. I was looking at Sleaford Mods on the stage dancing to a laptop, and I thought if these lads can get away with it… that’s where it comes from.”

“I don’t necessarily understand or trust people who don’t have things to say in these modern times,” he says of his punchy lyrical content. “I think the album gets the attention it does because a lot of people are struggling across the board. I think a lot of bands are afraid to have a voice, as the music industry can forget you very quickly if you don’t say the right things. I don’t really care about this stuff. It’s not my intent to impress people like the BBC. I want to hit with a younger generation in a certain way.”

“Eight years ago Kneecap were banned on RTE,” he says by way of example. “It took them eight years to care. Now I’m going to see them on the fifth night of a Vicar Street sold out run. That support is needed at the start, though, not now. That’s Ireland in a nutshell for me. We could have been here 3 or 4 years ago.”

His own progress has been a learning curve. “I went from being that drummer to teaching myself to use all this electronic equipment and record online, at the start of lockdown. For the second album I was more comfortable getting other people involved. It just naturally happened that way. All these people have been so nice to me since the start, so I wanted to use that opportunity. Bands like Benefits who do their own thing, follow their own purpose. They have a similar stance to me.”

For all the pointed politics – and we’ll let you discover that yourself – it’s Mulvaney’s uncle Paddy who is perhaps the star of the record. “He was my ma’s brother, one of those people who I swear was so smart it was insane. He spent his whole life reading, loved his wine… he was one of those supersmart characters who did it on his own terms, but he was disconnected from society. He shouldn’t have been, he could have accomplished a lot. He was like those old society writers.”

“Paddy’s father, my grandad, brought me up. I’ve always had this love for movies, so I have this horror movie ambience now in my stage show. You’re going to get an experience, your money’s worth. Something a little bit different. I’m not 100% sure what it is yet, but it’s definitely an experience.”

“I’m not angry all the time, not at all,” he says of the moody angles. “I go out of my way to help people. It’s just one of those things, I strongly disagree with the rock n’ roll lifestyle of acting like a prick. But I have to be angry on stage, it’s what the music is.”