• Slogan: Or how I learned to stop worrying and hate Serge Gainsbourg.

    Francois Mitterrand, the French president at the time of Serge Gainsbourg’s death, called him, in a surprisingly emotional obituary, “our Baudelaire, our Apollinaire” with the sort of off-the-cuff erudition that’s made me a life-long Francophile. Our premier at the time was Margaret Thatcher, a woman who is to poetry what Baudelaire was to self effacing good humour and an early night. That the President of France felt the need and, no doubt, a political compunction, to address a pop singers death is extraordinary: I wouldn’t hold your breath, Sir Cliff. But Serge Gainsbourg was much more to the French than…

  • Trans-Europe Express #3: Lithuania

    Nestled between Russia’s Kaliningrad Oblast, Poland, Latvia, Belarus and the Baltic Sea, Lithuania’s geographic location in Europe’s northeastern corner has had a significant effect on the evolution of the country’s music scene. Under Soviet rule for fifty years from 1940 to 1990 – save for a brief period under German occupation during World War II – the growth of an alternative music scene in Lithuania was stunted somewhat due to Western influences, especially rock, being surpressed by a communist regimé which viewed such styles as products of decadence and a source of social corruption. But nonetheless, Western music still managed…

  • Getting Re-Acquainted: Bob Dylan – Jokerman

    It’s strange how, nearly 50 years after someone shouted “JUDAS!” in the Manchester Free Trade Hall in 1966, Bob Dylan still has the power to provoke a reaction. For many people, he’ll forever be the wiry, electric veined pop-provocateur of the mid 60s, re-writing the rulebook on the way to burning himself out, whilst for others, he’s still the prototype folkie, with his work boots and dirty denims, honking on a harmonica whilst calling out injustice wherever he finds it. Dylan’s 70s records are reasonably well regarded, with 1975’s Blood on the Tracks still remaining the archetypical ‘breakup’ album, and his late…

  • Cork Heads: Sarah Corcoran; Stylist

    In the first installment of her (let’s face it, absolutely ingenuously-titled) column Cork Heads – looking at some of said county’s brightest and fastest-rising talents – Brid O’Donovan introduces us to Cork-based fashion stylist Sarah Corcoran, touching upon her fashion background, figuring out her approach and what the future holds. Brid’s photos feature photographer Michal Zagorsky and the model Amy McNamara. [On Growing Up] I have been really into fashion since I was a kid. I remember there was this thing called a Fashion Wheel. You switched around the outfits using different combinations so I guess that was my first experience with styling!…

  • The Singer, Not the Song – Five Singers Who Didn’t Write the Lyrics

    There’s a school of thought that suggests you have to mean every word you sing, that the songs are born out of personal experience, and you need to live it like you sing it. Nick Drake and Ian Curtis delved to the depths of their souls, and lost their lives in the process. Mark Kozelek and Mark Eitzel exposed their own failings and regrets through songs, whilst Elvis Costello laid himself bare, inviting the world to pass judgement. But whilst this does make for an intensely personal listen, it doesn’t strictly mean that you have to suffer for your art…

  • Getting re-acquainted: ZZ Top – Sharp Dressed Man (1983)

    Like a punch in the face, ‘Sharp Dressed Man’ explodes out of the speakers, a sleek, streamlined beast of a song, riding a pulsating electric beat into the horizon. Never mind the suits, the beards, and the cool cars, ZZ Top’s legacy to popular music is making hard rock that you can dance to. Trying to sound ‘modern’ is the kiss of death, but when you do it as good as this, you’re onto a winner. Eliminator, ‘Sharp Dressed Man’s parent album, kinda came out of nowhere. ZZ Top had been a very successful boogie-rock band, churning out blues riffs,…

  • Everything Sucks #008: Radio

    Over the course of doing a rant column in the hopes of entertaining others, you realise very quickly that while your first draft is often the most satisfying to get off your rotten little chest, it’s also the most stupid thing you could possibly put into the atmosphere. I was supposed to have a column in for Friday that would set the recent debate on radio right. It would accomplish this by dismissing radio as an artform entirely, citing podcasts, streaming, and many more external factors, combined with radio’s own greed and narrowing remit, as it block-programmes itself even further…

  • Everything Sucks #007: Red Hot Chili Peppers

    Everything Sucks is back after a long hiatus. Not that it was around long enough for anyone to really miss, but that’s okay. The last time I really got on my high-horse, a bunch of bullshit and chapped arses ensued because – surprise, surprise – people by and large don’t like being called out on calling themselves music fans and then refusing to support music. So, the topic of music fandom is what I am here to discuss today, from the other side of the coin, both as a deluded culchie alt-rock-obsessed teenager, and the hateful hack he became, rather…

  • Dan Hegarty: Trans-Eurosonic Express

    You always know that the end of the year is never far away when the announcement for the annual Eurosonic festival is made. It was officially announced this week that The Strypes will represent Ireland at the Eurosonic Festival in Groningen, The Netherlands next January. The Cavan band were named alongside 27 other acts from around Europe to perform at the festival. Eurosonic is Europe’s most influential new music festival; having previously introduced acts like Franz Ferdinand, Marina & The Diamonds, Villagers, and countless others to a larger European audience.   While we’re on the subject of The Netherlands, those…

  • Everything Sucks #006: The Problem With Arthur’s Day

    Last time your columnist went on here to decry something he found was directly harmful to music in Ireland, he well overshot his mark and wound up dividing camp a little. So, let’s try a different tack, shall we? Arthur’s Day is coming up and already hundreds and thousands of casual drinkers are plotting their whereabout at 1759 hours that day. That’s just it, though: casual drinkers. This make-believe “holiday”, that was manufactured, not only in our lifetimes, but four years ago, is nothing more than another stupid ploy designed to shill alcohol to a society that already suffers from…