District: GUIDE May 2019 by District Magazine

1 -2 ADAM COURT off GRAFTON STREET - DUBLIN 2 DOWN IN THE CITY For more shows and information visit:

LOSTLANE.IE

DELORENTOS

SUPPORT Sample Answer

SAT. 11.5.19

BRONAGH GALLAGHER SAT. 18.5.19

THE VERY ROUND ROBIN an evening of songs and collaborations

SUN. 19.5.19

TOMORROWS WITH

ALBUM LAUNCH

RISE

LE GALAXIE DJs + GUESTS

SUN. 2.6.19

THURS. 6.6.19

SCULLION

JOHN SMITH

SUN. 12.5.19

THURS. 16.5.19

FRI. 17.5.19

NIAMH FARRELL

GYPSIES ON THE AUTOBAHN

with Joseph O’Connor and Anna Mieke

THUMPER SAT. 25.5.19

Coughlan’s & In Bloom Cork TAKEOVER

JACK O’ ROURKE CRY MONSTER CRY MALOJIAN MARLENE ENRIGHT• JOHN BLEK & ANNA MITCHELL

FRI. 7.6.19

DOWN IN THE CITY

SCULLION

with very special guests

SUN. 16.6.19

MON. 13.5.19 Over 18s 2

7.30pm

SUPPORT Grainne Hunt

SINGS THE CARPENTERS

WED. 29.5.19

FRI. 31.5.19 AIKEN PROMOTIONS PRESENTS NEON

THE WHILEAWAYS THURS. 13.6.19

JUNIOR BROTHER SAT. 15.6.19

late at lost lane ELEPHANT

ALTERNATIVE 88 TOUR

SUPPORT Lemoncello & Finnian

FRI. 28.6.19

Monday club MONDAY CLUB

NINA HYNES

THE PALE SAT. 7.9.19

FROM 7.30PM FREE ENTRY

MONDAY CLUB

NEW BRASS KINGS

MON. 20.5.19

FROM 11PM FREE ENTRY

7.30pm

MONDAY CLUB

MASS BAND MON. 27.5.19

7.30pm

11PM

DJ KIERAN MCGUINNESS THURS. 16.5.19

Twitter @lostlanedublin | Facebook @lostlanedublin | Instagram @lostlanedublin

11PM

DJ PETE PAMF THURS. 23.5.19

LOSTLANE.IE

District Magazine presents:

at Bulmers Forbidden Fruit

PhotoIreland Festival 2019 1 May-31 July 10th Anniversary

ÂŠ Luis Alberto Rodriguez, from the series The People of the Mud

2019.photoireland.org

2019.photoireland.org Dublin

Celebrating 10 years advancing Photography in Ireland. Vibrant, friendly, all-inclusive: a festival for all to enjoy. 3

A 3 day FREE BBQ & BOURBON WHISKEY extravaganza Presented by Bulleit Bourbon

spread across Dublin’s original BBQ restaurant, Bison Bar & BBQ and The Workman’s Club outdoor rooftop. Kicking off from Friday, 24 May and running right across the weekend through Sunday night, we have some seriously delicious BBQ action, Bulleit Bourbon whiskey, live music, games, competitions and more coming your way. Saddle up and head on in to Bison Bar on Wellington Quay to experience the serious taste of THE BEST BARBECUE and BOURBON WHISKEY this side of the Lone Star State. The Beer, Bourbon and BBQ Festival at Bison Bar kicks off at 5pm on Friday 24th May and runs til late throughout the weekend. Live music and attractions start from 3pm Late on Saturday 25th and Sunday 26th May.

Bison’s Beer, Bourbon & BBQ Festival Fri 24th May - 5pm - til late sat 25th may - 3pm til late Sun 26th May - 3pm til late

Live music, Bourbon, BBQ food, craft beers & Free Entry!

see the schedule: bisonbar.ie/bbq-festival-dublin 4

@bisondublin

food

We’ll be running the Taste of Bison Special all weekend long – think succulent brisket, delicious pulled pork, racks of ribs as far as the eye can see. basically, if it fits in our smoker we’re serving it.

F E S T I V A L

BBQ FEST ‘19

B B Q

WOWBURGER are also getting in the BBQ spirit with their super-limited Texas Burger and Hot Chilli Dog, which will only be served for this weekend – and only available from The Workman’s Club rooftop!

bourbon & Beer

And what’s a whiskey festival without free whiskey? We’ll be dishing out free Bulleit Bourbon whiskey cocktails to the first 100 through the door each day, accompanied by complimentary BBQ Bites from our talented chefs to give you a real taste of what the weekend is about. We’ve partnered with the Whiskey Barons, Ireland’s dynamic Uisce Beatha enthusiasts, who will be running Whiskey Masterclasses focusing on Bulleit Bourbon, Roe & Co and Talisker for the curious throughout Saturday and Sunday. Beer, and lots of it, will be a major feature of the festival too. The Workman’s Club rooftop will have pop up craft beer stalls from leading suppliers such as Wicklow Wolf and Crafty Bear.

Remember: Remember:

Smoking Smoking (Meat) Is Good For You (Meat)

Is Good For You

entertainment The awesome bluegrass band Prison Love will be playing LIVE all weekend long. These guys are maestros of bluegrass, Americana and Cajun tunes. Plus, we’ll be throwing in a few cheeky line dancing lessons, to boot.

Bubblegum DJS are a trio of deck-spinning wonder-lads and have been throwing some deadly parties all over the gaff for the last while, so we’re delighted to have them take over the Workman’s Club outdoor rooftop all weekend long for 5

June 29th

Navan Racecourse Co. Meath

Higher Vision Festival

www.highervision.ie highervisionfestival 6

highervisionfestival

ACTS ANNOUNCED SO FAR:

J E FF

ALA N

K K i N

FI T Z PA T RI C K

CO L E

M O U DA B E R

V E

C L AR K E

SOL AR D O

â&#x20AC;&#x2122;4mad RO UT E 9 Hoppin

AM E &

H A MO

like John McClane at the Nakatomi Plaza. S UN I L

SH A R P E

Yippy Ki Yay!!

KA R E

PLUS MANY MORE TO BE ANNOUNCED.

Navan Racecourse Co. Meath

K E T TA M A

June 29th

M I L LS

MAY 2019

You might have peeped the artwork for SOAK’s new album ‘Grim Town’ on billboards and in record store windows lately. The excellent project was released at the tail end of April and regular District contributor, and one of the nicest guys in modern photography, Ellius Grace took the photos for the LP’s cover, inserts and SOAK’s latest round of press shots. When he brought some outtakes of that shoot to us, we knew we had a cover story on our hands and Carla Jenkins linked up with the Derry artist for an interview to complete the feature. It’s a coming of age story in a grim world, and the conversation pulls few punches. To be honest, a lot in this issue is a little on the grim side. But we’re ok with that. Caitriona Devery has an enlightening conversation with one of journalism’s most interesting characters, Jon Ronson. He talks his recent podcast about the late adult film actor August Ames ahead of a date in Vicar Street. Aoife Donnellan digs deeper into the Irish Museum of Modern Art’s newest exhibition A Vague Anxiety. Plus, Hannah O’Connell has a frank discussion with Gypsies on the Autobahn’s James Smith about approaching album number two from a challenging place. There are some lighthearted features too, though. I swear. -Eric

Editor // Eric Davidson

Deputy Editor // Hannah O’Connell

Operations Director // Craig Connolly

Creative Director // James McGuirk

Additional Design // Annie Moriarty

Culture Editor // Aoife Donnellan

Food & Drink Editor // Caitriona Devery

Senior Contributor // Carla Jenkins

Photography // George Voronov, Greg Purcell, Mark William Logan,

Pati Guimarães, Olga Kuzmenko, Anthony O’Connor, Roly Miller

Words // Rosie Gogan-Keogh, Hannah-Louise Dunne

Advertising // Niall Roche / niall.roche@districtmagazine.ie

Website // districtmagazine.ie

Cover Photography // SOAK by Ellius Grace

We want you to keep and collect every issue of GUIDE, because for us it’s a snapshot of Dublin culture that you can look back on. But if you are disposing of this magazine, please be responsible and recycle it.

12 / SOAK 20 / Perfect day in Dublin 24 / Sim Simma Soundsystem 30 / Jon Ronson 36 / A Vague Anxiety 42 / Citysong 46 / Live guide 48 / Nnic 54 / Mental Health & Music 58 / Sea swimming for the soul 62 / Gypsies on the Autobahn 68 / Artist Spotlight: Conor Walton 72 / Club guide 74 / Shee 80 / Na Séasúir 84 / Salad days

soak Words: Carla Jenkins / Photography: Ellius Grace

“i want about from b ager a an adu throug shit.”

ted to talk t the change being a teenand becoming ult and going gh the grim

hen I called to interview Bridie Monds-Watson (better known to us all as SOAK), I was sitting on the floor of a train. This is a position that both myself and Bridie seem to know well: the opening of ‘Grim Town’, SOAK’s second album, released at the tail end of April, has a train conductor (voiced by Bridie’s grandfather, Fabian Monds) declaring in a Northern Irish brogue that this is a journey to be made for those amongst us who are known as “the lonely, the disenfranchised, the disillusioned, the lost”. It is a haunting, electrifying start to the journey that we are about to embark on. ‘Welcome aboard the southbound 432 to Grim Town. If you are standing, please continue to stand. There are no additional seats. Please note this train is for the following categories of passenger only: recipients of universal credit or minimum wage, the lonely, the disenfranchised, the disillusioned, the lost, the grieving. Those who are unmedicated and have salaries or pension plans should vacate the carriage immediately. Passengers will be required to disembark and travel on their knees from this point. Sustenance will not be available. Please surrender any faith, aspiration or optimism to platform staff if you haven’t already. There will be no refunds or compensation for any inconvenience. Refreshments will not be available onboard. Enjoy your journey.’ “I wanted there to be a way in and out of the place, and when I began the record it felt like the train was the best mode of transport to the town,” Bridie explains when I point out the synchronisation of current location. “I’ve spent loads of time going to London whilst I was making my record, and getting the shockingly overpriced Manchester to London train on a Monday morning, and it is quite depressing. It’s full of businessmen in suits. It was the inspiration behind trying to create that environment but making it comically depressing.” Contrary to what the title might have us believe, ‘Grim Town’ is a record that I think embodies hope. It is light, airy and sweet, but also difficult in moments as it seems to vocalise pain that has only just healed at the time of writing. There is a fragility about SOAK, but when she sings, that fragility is transformed into something completely different. Like ‘Grim Town’, what you see on Bridie’s surface is not what you get. “Calling an album ‘Grim Town’ I knew in people’s brains they were gonna think it was the most depressing thing. I guess throughout the album I’m just being cheeky, making light of the situations. I know it’s sad sounding but I guess I just thought it would be fitting to begin

the album in a state of laughable depression.” The title is hilariously despondent for something that is such a joy to listen to, and Bridie laughs as she tells me that “people think I cried the whole way”. In actual fact, her journey towards her second record as SOAK hasn’t been something quite so emotionally straightforward. Being a face of what I’ve previously described in my writing as ‘bedroom pop’, Bridie first began playing music when she was only 13, eventually uploading her acoustic demos online. This was the first I heard of her, with a pared-back version of ‘Sea Creatures’ sent to me (probably by someone I fancied, and this probably made me fancy them more). Between 2012 and 2014, she released three EPs, and at the end of that year she signed with Rough Trade. By then, she had already toured with Tegan and Sara and Chvrches. By 2015 she made the BBC’s Sound of 2015 long-list, and even showed face on Later… With Jools Holland. That same year she released her debut album ‘Before We Forgot to Dream’. Her Spotify tunes now have streams upwards of 16 million. So where, amongst all this, did the concept of an album such as ‘Grim Town’ come from – an album for the utterly dejected, the results of a journey of despondency? “My last album was more a representation of the age that I was, the kind of life I was living rather than me as a person,” says Bridie. “I mumbled a lot because I was shy and wanted to hide away from what I was saying. On this album everything I was saying was lyrically what I wanted to say, and I was confident about wanting to say it. I didn’t shy away from anything, any lyrical matter. It’s a lot more of an accurate representation of that kind of person that I am.” The record came from a feeling of stop-motion after years of moving, finding yourself feeling grim in a small-town. “I wrote ‘Grim Town’ for myself more than anyone else,” she continues. “I finished touring my first album after four years, and suddenly I was back in Derry standing still for the first time in my life, trying to get back into that life. I just ended up confused and lost about everything, and it was the result of other failings and having an identity crisis. “It came from the process of trying to be an adult and feeling the pressure of growing up. I wrote ‘Grim Town’ because I needed to work through what I was feeling and understand that and I wanted to feel understood, more than anything. I was hoping that I could understand myself, I suppose, and that other people would feel like I was talking to them when they were listening to it. ‘Grim Town’ is my life, as if I took it out my brain and built a city with all the pieces of it.”

SOAK’s sophmore release is a more mature record than its predecessor, and not because it chooses to address more adult themes or because Bridie has grown up, but her sound has matured, in the same way you might look at a picture of someone and recognise the face you know under a face you don’t know so much. “I wanted to talk about the change from being a teenager and becoming an adult and going through the grim shit.” ‘Grim Town’ is about place, and placelessness: it is a fictional world, yes, but one that is entirely plausible in the grim reality of the world we find ourselves in just now. Bridie is from Derry, and her album artwork was shot by Ellius Grace at Dublin’s East Wall. “Some people think it’s about Derry, but it isn’t really. Derry just happened to be the place I was when I was writing a lot of the record. I want people to know that ‘Grim Town’ is a state of mind and that it could be anywhere. I specifically didn’t want to take the picture for the artwork in Derry, or really in Northern Ireland, and I didn’t want it to hold any significance. I took the pictures in front of a wall, and Derry is so famous for its walls… It was important that I didn’t take it in Derry.” At the time of writing, the politics of living in Northern Ireland is once again at the forefront of the news as it was only a few days ago that the New IRA claimed, and apologised for, the murder of Lyra McKee in Creggan. McKee – a journalist not much older than myself and Bridie – is known for her LGBT+ activism as well as her stellar writing. Bridie is also an LGBT+ activist, in the sense that she openly discusses her sexuality and her disgust at the intolerance of the government that we both find ourselves under with the DUP. “Every opportunity to say that Arlene Foster is a scumbag is one that I’ll openly take,” Bridie assures me. “Between my first and second album, I had a lot of fear. I was scared to do press and talk about being gay, that it was going to be my title and I’d be boxed off as ‘the gay artist’ and I just thought I was more than that. “I did a lot of thinking before this album and came back to this idea. I’m comfortable with who I am and I have nothing to hide. My sexuality is so normal to me, it’s not a big deal in

my life, so when I write about it it’s just natural and normal. Most importantly, my own country won’t let people marry. Out of the UK and Ireland it’s the only place. It’s just dumb. What is going to happen if people marry, will they go on fire? Politically it’s awful enough right now, is it really going to make a difference? “I think Arlene Foster is such a key figure in the whole thing because she’s so backwards with the entirety of it. There’s just no good reason, everyone has clarified that it’s dumb to have any restriction on marriage for gay people. I think it’s important I know my audience and at every point I can I do express my annoyance about it. Hopefully it’ll spread the message, or even change it.” ‘Knock Me Off My Feet’ is Bridie’s new album’s ode to Derry, about how you can have a love/hate relationship with a place. She has a strong link with the county, obviously, but also talks openly about how difficult life is there for young people, still. “A lot about the album is based around frustration in terms of opportunity. Personally, I’ve been so lucky to have in my career and my life the opportunities that I’ve had, [Derry] has one of the highest suicide rates in Europe and in the UK and some of the worst job opportunities; that’s been frustrating for me to watch my friends go through, more frustrating for them, and it’s seeped into the album.” Anyone living in Dublin right now can testify to how difficult it is to live in the city: the exorbitant rental prices leave so many people, myself included, feeling expelled by a place that they know and love. One of the particular elements of ‘Grim Town’ that chimed with me was that feeling of abiding by a place that doesn’t abide by you or feeling forced to stay somewhere you aren’t happy in because it happens to be where you’re from, and you can’t afford to go anywhere else. “It’s so important to speak about how awful the housing situation is for people at the moment,” Bridie agrees. “It’s such a weird moment in time to be in your early 20’s. The world expects so much from you and everyone’s screaming that you’re a millennial twat at the same time. You’re trying your best and you can’t afford to live anywhere. I live in Manchester, and the housing situation is actually okay here, but London and Dublin…

I wanted to live there too, but I can’t afford it. People from Dublin can’t afford to live in Dublin. It’s shocking, it shouldn’t ever have been allowed to advance to that point. It’s just a mess. The focus should be on the younger people trying to make something of themselves, not making it virtually impossible for them to live anywhere.” ‘Grim Town’ is as contemporary as you’d expect, with mentions of Tesco flowers and iPhone ring tones making its sonic landscape. I suppose it’s easy to forget in amongst all the heavy shit that we’re actually just young women, navigating our ways through life and creativity, forming pockets through music or words where we can see life represented in a way that we can recognise. These pockets are everywhere, really, and I suppose it’s important to remember that in the darkness of these journeys we can create the most colourful lights. Speaking of colourful lights… “I love Derry Girls!” Bridie laughs. “I think it’s amazing! I’ve been really annoying because I want to be on the show so bad. Everywhere I can, I say that Derry Girls is the best because it is, but I’m also saying, please put me on the show!” Finding our way to that light is what makes it all worth it. That’s why my favourite part of ‘Grim Town’ is at the end, with the re-emerging of Fabian’s voice over. ‘Dear passengers, this northbound 433 train is now departing Grim Town. Atmospheric pressure and air quality will improve rapidly. Breathe deeply, feel your heart fill with joy. A sense of dizziness and mild euphoria. Don’t panic. Gather your optimism, energy and smile as you travel onwards. Everything will be alright in the end.’ We’ve come to the end, all in one piece, and all that is left to do is breathe, and smile. Contrary to what the title would have you believe; a grim town can be a beautiful place. SOAK has created a thing of beauty. SOAK plays Button Factory on May 30 and Body&Soul June 21-23. ‘Grim Town’ is out now via Rough Trade.

PERFECT

JJ Rolfe

Cinematographer @rolfejj Last place you ate? Masa, I still miss the Moby Dick from Super Miss Sue that used to be in the same spot, but the fish tacos that live there now are a good substitute! Last pub you went to? Birchall’s in Ranelagh. It’s my local and does a great pint of Guinness, great pub for chats. As the years have moved the music volume that comes with the pints has gone down and the general chat has gone up. The lounge staff that bring the pints right to you just as the old one disappears makes it all the better. Favourite independent store? Hen’s Teeth on Fade Street. Russell, Greg, Rosie and the gang keep going from strength to strength. Always ahead of what is coming and putting interesting things into the world, Dublin needs more of it. Favourite place to people watch? Nick’s Coffee in Ranelagh, sitting out with possibly the best coffee in Dublin with my little four-legged pal Brun watching the world go by. Favourite place to go to in the sun? Seapoint, a dip in the sea on a hot day, away from phones and mail, great to clear the head. Also secretly the best view of the city at sunset. What’s one thing you see everyday here? People experiencing homelessness. What would you like to see less of? Less of luxury student accommodation and more social housing for the over 4000 children now living in emergency accommodation. If the measure of a society is how it treats its most vulnerable then we’re not doing great on any scale. Greed is not the answer. Best place for a Guinness? The Beach Bar, Aughris Beach in Sligo, after a surf, sadly the surfing doesn’t happen often enough but it is the nicest pint to wash the salt off! In Dublin it would have to be Birchall’s or Fallon’s... Can’t beat Grogan’s either, in fact probably could of just answered Grogan’s to all the questions!

DAY

Interviews & Photography: Ellius Grace

Tara Stewart

DJ & 2FM Presenter @tarastewartdj Last place you ate? Zaytoon. Last pub you went to? Grogan’s. Favourite independent store? Kaph. Favourite place to people watch? Powerscourt steps. Favourite place to go to in the sun? Powerscourt steps and Portobello canal. What’s one thing you see everyday here? Dublin Bus. What would you like to see less of? Hotels. Best place for a Guinness? Grogan’s.

DUBLIN 23

SiM sImmA sOunDsysteM

PHOTOGRAPHY // PATI GUIMARÃES WORDS // ERIC DAVIDSON

t the beginning of February of this year a project was released unlike anything Ireland had seen before. 'Pass the Aux Cord' was the debut outing by a group of artists representing a generation of musicians who are untethered by convention. As they put it, “a new globalised Ireland where the sounds of Ireland's now diversified landscape have given way to a fusion of grime, dancehall, hip hop beats being accompanied by Irish rhymes of immigration, inequality and sexual identity”. It all began five years ago when Tadhg Byrne, Johnny Carroll, Tim Nairn, Damien Allen, Frankie Grimes, Ben Bix, Josh Burdon and Reeta Cherie took over The Twisted Pepper’s top floor smoking area for an intimate gathering soundtracked by Caribbean, Latin and African music, with a particular focus on dancehall, reggae and grime. They brought their high-energy party to festivals and venues around the country, integrating elements like yoga and dancehall dance classes into proceedings. Inevitably the crew became close with MCs and DJs and eventually Sim Simma Records was formed. We caught up with one of the original founders, Tadhg Byrne, to discuss 'Pass the Aux Cord’, which featured God Knows of Rusangano Family, Denise Chaila, Breezy Ideygoke and more, plus Tadhg explains why you shouldn’t use the term ‘world music’.

As a gro so passio tHese ge â&#x20AC;&#x201D; the en In A roo tOGeth

oup, we'Re just onate about eNres Of music nergy we fEEL om when WE're her is insane." "As a group, we're just so passionate about these genres of music â&#x20AC;&#x201D; the energy we feel in a room when we're together is insane."

Maybe it happened before my time, but I can’t recall another party with the same music and ethos as Sim Simma. Back when it started, when you nearly called it Rice and Peas, what spurred you to begin running the parties? I'm so glad we called it Sim Simma… We chose the name because that song in particular ['Who Am I' by Beenie Man] was so popular at every single party we played back in the Junior Spesh days in Twisted Pepper. After a while we felt the need for a different type of party, something that brings back the basics of one room where people can dance, sit, drink, smoke and relax at the same time with all the same people. No cost on the door, no guestlist/cheaplist, no annoying promo on social media, just old fashioned weekly parties with everyone connected together. And that really was refreshing, to be honest. What drew you to this music and this culture? As a group, we're just so passionate about these genres of music - the energy we feel in a room when we're together is insane. When we're in the studio making our own tracks things can get extremely giddy very quickly. For me personally, this music has been part of my life for a long time - I've always felt a close connection having been born in London. A lot of my family live there still. When I was young I used to hear reggae playing from nearly every corner shop and when I was old

enough I would go to Notting Hill Carnival, and the atmosphere there man... I swear to god, it's the best place on earth! I still go every year. How important was your work with Junior Spesh in giving you the confidence to try out ‘different’ music policies in Dublin? Junior Spesh gave me a lot of confidence - not in the beginning though! The first year was almost a complete disaster. We lost so much money on high profile acts who we felt obliged to book without understanding what actually matters for a clubnight to become successful. After a while we figured out the balance of running a consistent night with resident DJs, building an identity, adding to that identity and quickly we developed a loyal crowd who came back every week. That experience gave us so much understanding. After three years we felt comfortable enough to try anything, knowing that the crowd would be with us the whole way.

There are a lot of great memories, but I remember one in particular... We had just finished playing, the party was over, but nobody would leave. Nobody shouted at us to keep playing or anything, everyone was content. They just stayed there hanging out, nobody wanted to go home. We didn't have security for the early days as there wasn't a need, so we just let people stay while we took

I read a few quotes from the early days four or five years ago where you described Sim Simma as a “way of life”. What did you mean? Do you still feel that way? Back in our first year we used to run at 6pm every Sunday without fail. It was a ritual every week. The same people would turn up early and last the whole night. It became so familiar, honestly it felt like going to church every Sunday. It became more than just a party, it really felt like family. Nowadays, circumstances are different, we're older and naturally we're moving forward with our individual lives, but we still share that same sense of family within the collective. That will never change! Why do you feel the parties have garnered such a cult following? It's hard to say really, the music policy is diverse which helps, but also the sense of being treated equally I think is really special. We want everyone to feel the same when they're dancing together. That's why we love to DJ on the ground, close to people, rather than on a big stage.

What’s your best memory of Sim Simma as a party series?

down the decorations. Occasionally the room just burst out in random applause, and then everyone would help us take stuff down, they even helped carry the soundsystem! It was beautiful. Sim Simma DJs went to Brazil to play at Carnaval in Salvador and Recife a while ago, what was that experience like? What did you bring back to implement into the parties? That was an amazing experience. Carnaval is such a massive celebration in Brazil, it really hit us just how big the culture is over there.

It was like a pilgrimage. We met so many people who taught us about the tradition and history of each city and how they celebrate in their own style. It was such a valuable trip for us. We didn't bring anything particular back to implement into our parties, but instead we developed a real understanding of the music, the culture and the identity. I also learned that caipirinhas are the best cocktail in the world, hands down. Don't even @ me.

ten by David Byrne about it. Burna Boy also touches on the subject when criticising the 'afrobeats' tag - it comes down to not understanding indigenous types of music from other countries, so instead we become lazy and group them all together. It's most definitely our problem, but it

"It became more than jUst a parTy, it really felt like faMily." affects the musicians most. My personal issue with it is when someone like Diplo uses a rhythm sample or gets in a musician to play a melody that he then uses for some huge electro-swing banger that no one notices where it came from originally. That curiosity is just not there. And it's a shame, really. When did you decide that you wanted to start the label? Was there a moment that prompted it? A few years ago I would say, we have some very good producers on our team so it became inevitable really. I think when we realised it wasn't possible to do weekly Sundays anymore we felt the need to try new ideas, and naturally the label idea came about.

I’ve read that you have some contempt for the term ‘world music’. Louis Scully of Woweembeem expressed the same sentiments a while back, why do you feel it’s so wide of the mark? It's a term that over-simplifies music and also groups together cultural traditions that have no connection to each other, apart from the fact they're not from the Western World. It can be described as a necessary evil, perhaps, when trying to introduce new music to an audience, but I think people would quickly adapt if we got rid of it. There's a very good article writ-

When you were putting the artists together did you have a hitlist or was it artists you had been working with over the years?

Soundsystem is still a key element. Is bringing the label to a live audience still important? Absolutely, to us it feels like the marriage of two core elements - the musical identity and the social aspect. We're bringing our music and connecting it to people. My favourite nights always involve someone toasting on the mic or teaching a whole room how to dance on the floor! Was it important to have artists on the project from outside of Dublin, from different corners of the country? Yes, we wanted to be sure that we're not just living in our own Dublin bubble while the rest of the country is pushing things musically. It's inspiring to see all the new artists coming out of Cork, Waterford, Galway, and Limerick especially. Ireland is small, bruh, we gotta stick together [laughs]! What’s next for the label?

It was mainly people we'd already established a close connection with, that sense of family is really important. We're only just getting started so we didn't want to try something that didn't feel natural. There are definitely some artists we'd love to work with though - there's a lot of talent in Ireland and the UK right now!

Perhaps a 'Man Like Me' video, along with some more visuals of the EP. A vinyl release is on the way too! Hopefully after that we'll keep progressing, we've some exciting new projects with the likes of Toby Kaar, Fehdah and, eventually, maybe a collaborative album. But we're taking things in baby steps, for the moment!

'Pass The Aux Cord’ got a great reaction online, but the live element of Sim Simma

Sim Simma Soundsystem play Bulmers Forbidden Fruit on June 1.

Words: Caitriona Devery Illustrations: Annie Moriarty

ring Jon Ronson as he’s driving in the US countryside, which means that much like in rural Ireland he keeps going in and out of phone coverage. I worry I’m annoying him as I repeatedly phone him back, but he’s ever-polite, funny and engaging, even as he takes my fourth, fifth and sixth calls. There is something surreal about being on the line to him, it pulls me through a wormhole back to a summer in Galway at the tail end of my Arts degree in Galway, in 2001.

That summer I was still in the hazy cocoon that follows final exams, with no job to speak of, but a vague, creeping awareness that reality was about to bite. Someone I thought was cool had invited me to see Jon Ronson at the Galway Arts Festival. I was excited. Ronson’s book ‘Them: Adventures with Extremists’ was the first journalistic book I read about contemporary culture. It made me feel clever by osmosis. It was funny, curious and non-judgemental. Even though the talk was at 4pm, we managed to get stuck in traffic and missed it entirely. That sense of dropping the ball chimed with a wider feeling of impending gloom as the sleepy embrace of post-Arts degree Galway began to turn cold. It was a weird summer. I left Galway, and then Ireland, not long after that. I definitely didn’t think one day I’d be having a reallife conversation with Jon Ronson. About porn. It turns out Jon has a strong memory of that Galway talk too. It was, he says, one of the first talks he did in another town. His projects since have taken him all over the world and off the written page and into film (‘The Men Who Stare At Goats’, ‘Frank’, ‘Okja’), podcasts (The Butterfly Effect, The Last Days of August, This American Life) and onto such diverse topics as Frank Sidebottom, psychopaths and public shaming in the age of the internet. I first ask him if there are any questions he is bored of answering. He hesitates before saying that people always seem keen to know why he wanted to look at the porn industry in The Butterfly Effect. “People want an anchor,” he says. “They want to understand why I spent three years on the sets of ‘Stepdaughter Cheerleader Orgy’. I feel like people might have suspicious thoughts about my motives unless I tell the origin story. So maybe I should tell it.” He dives into one of the motivators for making the two porn-related audio series. “When I was writing my public

shaming book, I was meeting a porn star Certainly in young people erectile dysfunccalled Princess Donna in the lobby of the tion has gone up 1000 per cent. And it’s all Chateau Marmont Hotel. Everybody in the down to PornHub. When I said that to Fabian, hotel lobby was dressed exactly like how I he said maybe I should be investing in the dress, you know, in shapeless grey hoodpharmaceutical industry.” ies. Except for Princess Donna who looked Fabian Thylmann was the boy genius who like a mad peacock, in this excessively tight came up with the technology platform that dress.” led to PornHub and its , and he was resigned He noticed something. about the inevitability of these develop“I glanced over at the hotel receptionist. ments. He was looking at her with what I thought “I’m with him on that,” Jon says. “If it wasn’t was complete contempt. The thought Fabian, it would have been someone else. popped into my head that statistically he’s It’s one of the reasons why I didn’t want likely to be a porn user. Which basically to portray Fabian as a kind of a means he’s fine with porn stars when they Bond villain. Even though he has are on his computer, but not swimming pool that magically when they’re in his vicinity, appears, which is just what Bond villains have.” not when they dare to enter Jon’s is a pragmatic acknowledgement of the the Chateau Marmont. The inevitability of tech-driven capitalistic change. Chateau Marmont has a He points to one unfair, but familiar aspect. reputation for being quite “They always find a way for artists to make less and a louche place, but he was less money. Whether that’s in music, or porn. So yes, the looking at that woman as if to technological change is inevitable, but what is sad is that say, ‘Why are you dressed like they use the technological changes to exploit creative a sex worker, you sex worker?’. people. They didn’t have to do that.” “I just found that really intriguHe suggests a different pricing model that would allow ing. If my analysis of the situaconsumers to choose that more of their subscription tion was right, I was witnessing a would go to the artists. moment of hypocrisy. And hypocTechnology can detach people from the invisible risy is always really interesting to and disproportionate results of their actions, me. So I decided to look into the hence the butterfly effect analogy. At one world of porn performing.” point Jon introduces Fabian to Mike, a The end result was The Butterfly porn producer whose life has been Effect. The podcast paints a very drastically affected as a result of human picture of the porn industry, Fabian’s invention. I asked Jon in the throes of huge upheaval as if this compels him to show free sites like PornHub and YouPorn people the human consesuddenly made free porn available on quences of their actions. a mass scale. Its sequel The Last Days “Oh god yeah,” he says, of August is an unsettling look at the and tells me another death of porn star August Ames amidst B u t t e r f ly Effect a social media scandal. origin story. “When One thing that comes up (or not) is how I was writing about the ubiquity of extreme porn is having Justine Sacco, the an impact on real world sexual activAIDS tweet woman, ity. Towards the end of the Butterfly a n d I i n t e r vi ewe d Effect we hear some facts about Sam Biddle who at the time was a Gawker how in this hyper-sexualised journalist and he was the guy who sort of new world young people are started the onslaught against her. I asked having less sex. Are we him how it had felt to start this onslaught doomed to die out, as a against her. And he said, ‘It felt delicious’.” species? In 2014 Sacco wrote an ill-advised tweet Jon laughs. about AIDS in Africa before boarding an “Yes. Well hopefully not. 11-hour flight to South Africa. By the time Hopefully we’ll find a balance. she landed, she was the number one Teen pregnancies are way down, trend worldwide and the object of a huge which is the positive side of it. hate-campaign. Jon was interested in the “It seems that young people are divestment of responsibility by those that having way less sex than young people started the finger-pointing. in previous generation,” he continues. “And “Biddle said something like, ‘I’m sure she’s part of that reason is erectile dysfunction.

fine now’. That really flushing in the cocaine down the toilet with jumped out at me, that his arm outstretched. With a look of disgust line. Because I knew that on his face. And I remember thinking, ‘You she wasn’t fine. And when act like you’ve never seen cocaine before, he said that, I just felt that but you work for the BBC’. I always wanted he was playing this psychoto do the opposite of Donal MacIntyre. I logical trick on himself. To not never want to go into any situation with a feel bad about the bad thing sense of superiority.” that he did. We always try to Jon is careful with his words. When I joke find ways to not feel bad about that we will title the article ‘Jon Ronson: when we behave cruelly. Not Donal MacIntyre’, he adds a footnote. “It really stuck in mind and made “Can I just caveat that, he was very, very me think about the internet and good at what he did. I’m not dissing Donal how we so rarely think about the MacIntyre as a human, I’m dissing that consequences of what we do. attitude of wanting to be representative of Honestly I think my contribution to moral probity. I think it’s good for a journalist all of this, both with the Butterfly to include their own weaknesses, if they Effect and So You’ve Been Publicly are not embarrassed of them, I think it Shamed and The Last Days of makes it fairer, truer, but I think it’s also August, is really to remind people better for the reader or the listener.” that there are consequences to Jon is a dogged interviewer. While never things on the internet.” aggressive, he pursues answers. How does There are lessons here about he cope with that as a sensitive person? how to be human, but an absence “Well you have to keep going and it’s not of didacticism. His stories build pleasant. The last thing I want to do is be narrative tension underpinned confrontational or conflict-y. I hate those things. by a strong moral core, but they But you have to do it for so many reasons, for are crafted with humour, humilfactual reasons, to make sure you’re getting the ity and compassion. He says, facts rights, but also for solving a mystery. “It’s easy for some superior “There’s nothing better than that. As long as you writer to come along and can do it without hurting people or exploiting people. pretend like they’re not part As long as you can do it and still not leave a big footof the problem. Writers love print, it’s the best thing in the world. This is the dark side to do that, because writof journalism, often solving the mystery involves making ers want to feel sort of somebody’s life worse. And this is what I’m always trying to perfect”. avoid. I don’t want to make anyone’s lives worse.” Jon reminds me about This conscientious streak may explain the anxiety which one of our own, Irish Ronson openly talks about in his books and audio work. He had investigative journalist earlier mentioned how creating the Last Days of August had led Donal MacIntyre, “He’s him to Cognitive Behavioural Therapy sessions as working on a little bit like me and the series had sent him “slightly barmy” for a few weeks. I ask Louise Theroux, but him if he felt anxiety drove or impeded his work. much more censo“I’ve only felt impeded in the last year. I’ve rious”. He tells me become a little bit of a hermit in the last year. two stories about MacIntyre who seems But before then I think it drove me a little bit,” to have been on a permanent hunt for he pauses to reflect. “It did drive me. Actuoutrage. He once wanted to track where ally, I remember something Louis Theroux stolen computers end up, so tried in vain said, when he was asked why he goes into for hours to have his laptop stolen in Brixall of these different situations. And he said ton. Jon laughs, “People kept coming up to not doing it feels worse than doing it. I put him and saying if you stand there like that myself in a lot of dangerous situations over someone’s going to steal your laptop. the years and I feel my answer is the same Eventually after ages, finally someone as his. Because if you don’t do it, you don’t reluctantly stole it and he immediget the story, and you don’t get the ately burst into tears”. book. So that’s a way that anxiety Another episode saw MacIntyre drives you in a positive way. seek out cocaine at Paris FashBut I would say in the ion Week. past year or so my “Somebody gave him some anxiety has cocaine,” Jon says. “So he impeded goes into the toilet and me. makes a big show of

I think that was to a great extent down to the difficulties in making The Last Days of August. Now that’s over I sort of feeling like I’m getting my sense back.” Finally, back to 2001 and ‘Them: Adventures with Extremists’ when he went on an adventure around the world interviewing people with some very strange beliefs. Many of them thought the world was controlled by a global cabal of shadowy figures. At the end of the book Jon conjectures that the scary thing might not be that there is such a conspiracy, but that in reality nobody is running the world in any kind of organised way at all. I ask him what he thinks now? He laughs, “That’s a good question”. “Well, I think if there was a secret cabal of people ruling the world then Brexit would probably be going a bit better. So I think Brexit proves the point.” Jon’s excited about being back in Vicar Street in May. He’s full of the love for Dublin audiences and for the storied venue. He was there before for ‘The Psychopath Test’ but says the upcoming tour brings a different show entirely, “There’s no psychopath stuff, there’s lots of porn. PG-rated. It won’t make anybody blush”. Just in case you were wondering if you should bring your ma.

Jon Ronson is at Vicar Street on May 29.

A VAGUE ANXIETY WORDS // AOIFE DONNELLAN

reud defined anxiety as a transformation of tension. Heidegger classified it as a fundamental mood. IMMA’s latest group exhibition A Vague Anxiety focuses on contemporary reasons for anxiety; the news, climate change, world leadership. The exhibition centres around emerging artists, and hopes to address some of the issues that affect Generation Y. Mental health is having its long overdue moment in the increasingly hot sun, and this exhibition wonders whether there is a collective aspect to the heightened anxiety of today’s society. I spoke with the exhibition's curator, Seán Kissane, about effecting change and an impending sense of doom.

Plattenbau Studio — Highrise.

“I’m trying to talk about anxiety as being human condition,” Seán explains. “This is very much a human exhibition, even though there are sculptures which look quite minimal, and other things are just architectural plans, so they are not portraits of people, but in this exhibition the human presence is always entirely present, and represented, or its implied.” Giving a quick run through of the layout, Seán outlines the power of each room. “There are six rooms, the first room’s theme is climate change, the next room is politics, hard borders, the rise of the right, the next room is ideas of shelter, refugees, migration, the homeless crisis here in Ireland, the next room is completely darkened, it’s what you do inside that shelter, it’s this idea of the digitisation of intimacy. Interpersonal relations are increasingly “People will always filtered through be individual, they apps and dating apps, so we lose will always burst through, [and put] the sense of ourselves, we look their individual for intimacy in the creativity in wrong places. Then the exhibithat space.” tion comes back on itself, it becomes universal again, a lot of these ideas have been tested before. Especially the political ones. There are two major installations by plattenbaustudio, a studio in Berlin, by artist Susanne Wawra, and those are observing what life was like in former East Germany. So again there is a sense of anxiety between person and state, that tries to force uniformity on society, to create a flat society. But people will always be individual, they will always burst through, [and put] their individual creativity in that space. Then the last room we come into is about childhood, and a loss of innocence, because increasingly it’s little children who are the people who are presenting with acute anxiety.” Seán is fast-paced and clearly energised by the work. The exhibition is a series

of rooms and with those rooms comes a myriad of emotions; most of them unsettling. The anxiety present in the backdrop of our daily existence seems like an objective happening that everyone has experienced in some way. The exhibition is explicit in dealing with current reasons for collective anxiety. It touches on a range of political and social issues, using symbolic materials. “For example in the large scale architectural drawings by plattenbaustudio, on the surface it looks like a huge building in East Berlin, but when you get up close you realise that what they’re representing is that each dweller has personalised their individual apartments. Or in Marie Farrington’s sculptures, while again they look quite minimal, it’s these materials which speak about anxiety. The use of sea water represents the rising sea levels. Other materials include wax and pollen, which of course reference bees, and colony collapse disorder, and how our food chain could break down at any time. And then Marie has these little black pools filled with either Indian ink or used engine oil. These represent the petrochemical industry, and the way in which we are releasing vast amounts of carbon into the air, and causing this destruction. The human is either present or implied.” The list of potential impending disasters goes on, leaving the viewer feeling somewhat powerless. The group nature of the project better captures the collective moment that anxiety is having currently; bringing a variety of personal expression to the exhibition. This personal aspect revives the power of the viewer as each artist lays claim to their own brand of coping. It presents a diverse experience with traditional painting, sculpture and photography, installation, social media, workshops, dance, performance and club culture. The pieces were produced by a group, curated by Seán, of emerging Irish and International artists: Cristina Bunello, Marie Farrington, Saidhbhín Gibson, Helio León, plattenbaustudio, Brian Teeling and Susanne Wawra, with performance pieces by Alexis

Blake and Stasis. He tells me more about how the group dynamic of the exhibition allows for the use of varied mediums, which captures accurately the different forms anxiety can take in people’s daily conscious. “There are seven artists and each of them does something really different and every practice looks very different, but at the same time they overlap and there are synergies in the practices which really suit each other and it is this shared experience of different types of anxiety. Every single practice is entirely different, but at the same time, similar. “The artists are largely unrepresented by galleries, and have had little or no institutional support before, so the exhibition has hoped to give a platform to new voices who hopefully are relatively unknown to the audience, so the main thing is that I’d like to introduce these practices to the audience. Practices which I have followed for, in some cases, nearly 10 years. After that I hope they see a little snapshot of what’s happening. Many of them are based in Dublin, or in Ireland, or Irish artists who are abroad. So it is a little snapshot of contemporary practice as well.” I wonder if the word anxiety is specific to the time we are living in. Has it always been around, but only now has found a voice? Is the current political and environmental disarray affecting the world’s collective wellbeing? Seán describes why anxiety isn’t just a 21st century feeling. “It’s not new, the father of psychoanalysis is Freud, and anxiety and hysteria were two of his things that he described. He said anxiety is the feeling of impending danger but the point being that it’s up to the psychoanalyst to decide whether it is objective or neurotic. I suppose what I am suggesting is that we are moving away from a point where anxiety is simply neurotic, to a point where anxiety is wholly objective. We have very real things that make us feel impending danger; climate, politics, shelter, digitisation

Cristina Bunello — Portrait of a Young Girl

Saidhbhin Gibson — Being as a thing.

Brian Teeling — Shower Time.

Brian Teeling — House.

Brian Teeling — Shower Time.

Saidhbhin Gibson — Shrink.

Cristina Bunello — Rainbow Painting II

Helio Leon — Apparition, Istanbul, 2012.

“I’m not trying to describe the point of an anxiety attack, or someone with acute anxiety, I am trying to talk about this notion of chronic anxiety, this hum that we experience.” Susanne Wowra — Mother Storm.

of intimacy... I guess what I would say is different is the objectivity, it almost feels like we are living in a time of war. “I’m not trying to describe the point of an anxiety attack, or someone with acute anxiety, I am trying to talk about this notion of chronic anxiety, this hum that we experience. You might be having a regular, good day, and you don’t even open the newsfeed on your phone but somehow it infects the way that you interact with the world because somehow it is going to hit you, so Trump is in North Korea, and Kim tests some atomic bombs; you know that on an individual level there is nothing you can do about this, it is one of those horrendous ‘wait and see’ moments. And then you wonder is there any plutonium in those bombs, or is it fake news? And so you question everything about this news. Even though you’re having a good day, you’re left feeling vaguely unsettled. It is just another little germ that goes into the back of your mind, and it festers, and that’s the vagueness. They’re huge events, and they’re so huge that there is nothing that you can do on an individual level. So what we can do is kind of process them in our own micro way, and almost, hope for the best.” The future of anxiety is intrinsically linked to our social, and political futures, as well as the very existence of the human race. Seán thinks young people could hold the cure. “We’re feeling the pressures of society increasingly, and children are the people who are going to carry all of these issues with them into the next 50 years, so we are really thinking about the children’s climate protest a few weeks ago, which I experienced in Cork. These young people going out onto the streets protesting was a really hopeful sign. “I believed those kids. There were so many different messages on their placards which to me is a symptom of that creativity which

you have in youth; young people are always full of ideas, they are always so receptive to change. The other thing is that aren’t we supposed to think that technology is exponential in the way that it changes so that all you need is a small number of these young brains to find technological help as well. The person who discovered that blackhole yesterday is a graduate student in Harvard. These remarkable discoveries can be made by remarkable young people.” Is a resolution in sight? “The message that the artists are driving home, is that everything seems so huge, and these things feel like global issues with no obvious resolution, every artist in the exhibition identifies how the individual functions within these issues, and that it is not a collective responsibility, but it is an individual responsibility.” There is always a worry that overemphasising the individual’s responsibility of the collective will let large corporations off the hook. For example in the case of single use plastics. “You cannot have systems of oppression unless individual people collude, or are complicit within that system, all systems, whether liberal or oppressive, are driven by people, by democracies, by individuals. Society is seen as this big amorphous blob but it is a system which is composed of individuals who can make individual change. “The whole point about it is that if the individual refuses to take the plastic from the supermarket, then the supermarket will. You know, the butterfly effect? That individual decision will influence companies to make products which are no longer individually packed. I suppose that notion that individual responses lead to collective affirmative action.” Taking control of these actions can indeed help to reduce the anxiety of impending

doom. Creating a dialogue about collective affirmative action is one of the most important results of the work. The exhibition has a sense of urgency to it. The expression of the artists feels as if it needed to be expressed here and now. “And that is the hopeful model I guess, and all you can do is try and participate at the level.” Audiences attending this exhibition should hope to experience an emotional overload in the important sense. While the exhibition does not suggest it can answer these questions, experiencing other people’s expressions of anxiety has a strangely soothing effect. Seeing where it all fits together in society and understanding the ways in which it comes together to make the foundations of nations is reassuring. While big corporations need to be held accountable, each person and each mind has untold power to choose the behaviour that will make a positive difference in the world. A Vague Anxiety is running at IMMA until August 18.

CITY SONG WORDS & PHOTOGRAPHY // CARLA JENKINS

good first step is telling your parents to buy a house in Dublin city: that really helps,” laughs Dylan Coburn Gray when I ask him what his advice would be to a burgeoning playwright in Dublin. We laugh for more than one reason: we both know the only way that a burgeoning playwright could buy a house in Dublin City is if someone parent-like buys it for them; we both know his good fortune to grow up in the city was the happy accident that lead to his fierce eloquence on its streets. The Abbey and London’s Soho Theatre are currently in the midst of co-producing the world premiere of Dylan Coburn Gray’s ‘Citysong', a Verity Bargate Award-winning play. Described as “a chorus of voices showing us three generations of a Dublin family on one day”, the blurb assures us that the play is “different things at different times, which makes sense seeing as it’s about change”. ‘Citysong' is a one-day conglomeration of Dublin-only likelihoods, be it romances, deaths, births or nights out. It’s a love letter to both the city and its youth; the writers that have come and the ones yet to come. It calls itself a “legible palm, singable psalm”. And, at its centre is Dylan, one of Dublin’s most exciting young playwrights; a man moulding and changing the face of the place that he calls home. I met Dylan while we were both studying, however I had, as much as he would hate it, heard of him before. His success in theatre precedes him. “I wasn’t a particularly active member of Dublin Youth Theatre, until I did a show at 19, and, as tends to happen, you catch the bug,” he tells me. “My internal barometer went from, ‘I’m a music student who happens to do a lot of theatre’ to, ‘I think I want to be a theatre maker who happens to be doing a degree in music’. I’ve always had a foot in the theatre-world, no, sort of an itching, until I left to try the insane idea of having a go of it as a theatre-maker. “It was a natural, unforced progression, accidental really. You just turn around and think, I’ve been working in theatre for years. It happens to a lot of people. You think, ‘Oh, how did that happen? How do I get out?,’ I haven’t had the, ‘How do I get out?’ moment yet.” Dylan’s work seems to be complimented with a prize or award of some sort per release. His debut, Boys and Girls in 2013 and won the Fishamble Best New Writing Award in 2013 and was nominated for the Stewart Parker Trust Award. He took home the Spirit of Fringe Award in X for Love+.

“I genuinely really enjoy writing,” Dylan tells me. “When I did 24 hours plays, I would have flashbacks to feeling like a swot, pretending not to have done my homework, sitting in a room pretending to not have written my play. In so many ways you stay the way you are when you’re 16.” Dylan’s writing is entirely inspired by Dublin, just as he is. He finds himself intrigued and enabled by the city. It’s a unique privilege to form a safe pocket within Dublin, a city that so often expels those that love it with skyrocketing rental prices and a lack of welfare, or opportunities, sometimes both. Somehow Dylan has managed to lasso this and make it work for him. “I’ve been lucky, my family home is close to the city centre. The time that other people would spend commuting I would spend sitting in coffee shops writing plays. The scholarships I’ve received are literally the only things in my life that make financial sense, in the sense that I do a PhD part time so I have somewhere to live rent free. “I’ve never had a money job in the arts, and I get by just writing. There is a feedback loop there, where it’s easier to be doing more writing as you write more, and it’s easier to write well if you write more and have the time. But I will say that minimal travel time and costs makes a huge fucking difference. “I think I’ve been allowed to be prolific; others would be able to if they existed in the bubble that I did.” Dublin is indeed a city that wears it’s face on its streets, and no more so than in ‘Citysong’: Look: the spire's a spindle or axis and while it's not vinyl the city is a record of all that has happened to us, is happening, or will. It spins as the world does and a godlike needle could read its spaces, how it bumps and juts and dimples and cavities, as pages or notes in the book or the symphony of us. “Dublin City Centre is one place, so it’s easy to develop a mythic presence in your head because all aspects of your life centre around the same landmarks. I grew up in North Strand. My grandparents were raised on the routes I walked to college. “I don’t know, maybe it’s the smallness. Because its changed quickly in a small place of time, you can write about generations of one family, about capitalism, neoliberalism… It’s all there in Grand Canal Dock, it’s all there in any number of places.”

"As a writer you can’t just rest on your intentions. You have to think about what audience it’s going into.”

Dylan’s Dublin is reminiscent of the work of Sally Rooney or Emmet Kirwan, relaying the experiences of the city through the eyes of people like me, or you, or Dylan or Sally or Emmet as they walk down O’Connell Street. While posterity is something that doesn’t necessarily concern Dylan, nor even originality – he openly says that he “steers into the skid” of influence, which can be “liberating” – what is important to him is “telling stories that you want to tell”. “I think a little bit of an artisanal spirit goes a long way. It does something to an audience. You can let posterity and literary movements sort themselves out.” This first-person stream-of-consciousness genre is not new to Dublin: Joyce himself was a pioneer of it. Increasingly, however, young artists are claiming ownership over the genre: particularly in the world of spoken word renditions of Dublin’s night-time underworld appears, where the likes of Dylan, Kirwan and Kojaque hail. Some are even becoming the faces of it: one of ‘Citysong’’s most vital elements is its dedication to Paul Curran, a Dublin-native spoken word artist who passed away in 2017 and whose funeral was on the day of the ‘Citysong' launch. I based my thesis on Paul, so this topic gets to me too. “There was so much love in that room,” Dylan tells me. The interconnectivity of people in Dublin is astounding, and in moments like these becomes all the more potent. “Dublin is a village, and arts Dublin is a village within a village. “I don’t know, is there a sense that there’s something fascinating and ritualistic about Dublin nightlife? That there is a meaningful scope for transformation? Or for a generation who have been denied that because we have no traditional career ladder, there is no prospect of home-ownership, there is no prospect of having children. So actually, going out and getting locked with your mates does

assume a mythic quality because nothing else is allowed to?” Dylan’s work is about collisions: friends, families, lovers. “The things that force me to… Bounce things off together. It ups the likelihood or the surprise portent of the audience’s brain that makes them think, ‘I understand that bit, that person, that memory’.” With the explosion of Fleabag (which of course, like all good things, originated from the stage), we are coming back around to the expression of the individuals experience of life and all its messy, sexy, heart-breaking flaws. Dylan’s work of course encompasses this. “For a long time I felt I was an awkward and socially graceless teenager. One of the reasons I find it relatively easy to write is that my writing is a more rehearsed, polished, coherent version that I never succeed at being in person. If you find occupying space as yourself a little fraught, then monologuing is this beautiful vehicle for performing the hyper-articulate version of yourself you would love for people to believe you really are. It’s selfish, wish fulfilment.” “Having ‘Citysong' at the Abbey is gorgeous, and it’s the right play. I’ve written lots, and I’m proud of what I’ve done, but ‘Citysong' is the one play that encapsulates the things that I’ve done and that I’m interested in and how I’m interested in handling them. The prestige is lovely, and obviously career-wise I’ve felt the kick up in terms of ‘There he is, on the Abbey stage’… Ultimately, attention is not the love that makes life bearable,” Dylan laughs. With that success comes the worry of translating the Dublin-centric experience to the London stage – one runs the risk of caricaturing oneself with Dublin vernacular being spoken by English actors. Dylan elaborates. “You want to speak an experience, not speak over it. There’s an ambassadorial sense that comes out: there are jokes in the script, but it would be really good if no one

thought the Dublin accent saying the joke was the joke. You know?” I ask if its classicist. “Oh god, yeah. As a writer you can’t just rest on your intentions. You have to think about what audience it’s going into.” What is it about Dublin that is so attractive to write about? “There is beauty in the bleakness,” says Dylan. “I’ve found it really interesting having meetings in the UK. The word that keeps coming up about Irish writing is ‘lyrical’, and it’s not always meant in a nice way. I think there’s a misconception that Irish writers are a bit self-indulgent… There is an interesting parallel where Irish writing has an inability to be a tightly written three act, and the way that writing by other experiences of oppression is a ‘failure to do a plot right’. “The same way that people describe writing by women or POC as too vague or directionless… Strong plots as a tool requires a character who has meaningful agency over their life, who has the power to make a choice that will meaningfully affect their conditions. We can think about why oppressed people may not be interested in those stories.” Dylan introduced me to a phrase, “eating around the bruise,” and do you know what? ‘Citysong’ bites right into it. We are lucky we get to watch. Citysong runs in Abbey Theatre from May 25 – June 8.

LIVE GUIDE

May 2019 BLANK BANSHEE

SISTER NANCY

MCABRE BROTHERS

GWENNO

DELORENTOS

VALHALLA

THE MURDER CAPITAL

JUST MUSTARD

WU TANG CLAN, PUBLIC ENEMY & DE LA SOUL

MARTINHO DA VILA

DERMOT KENNEDY

OPEN MIKE EAGLE

NEALO, LEO MIYAGEE, DENA ANUK$A

LOUIS COLE

KID TRUNKS & CRAIG XEN

ZASKA

UNIT1 & CLAPPERS

MISSKATE

ED MOTTA

ALICE IN CHAINS

SIVE

SORCHA RICHARDSON

RUSHES

THUMPER

BUTCHER BROWN

JERRON ‘BLINDBOY’ PAXTON

For fans of: Vaperror, Marcus Woods, Bladee The Grand Social Thursday May 9 €20

For fans of: Lee Scott, Milkavelli, Black Josh The Thomas House Friday May 10 €13 For fans of: Republic of Loose, O Emperor, Fight Like Apes Lost Lane Saturday May 11 €22

For fans of: Fontaines DC, Girl Band, Just Mustard Whelan’s Saturday May 11 €13.50 For fans of: A Tribe Called Quest, Nas, Slum Village 3Arena Tuesday May 14 €60-€80

For fans of: Rhys Lewis, Fenne Lily, Wild Rivers The Olympia Theatre Tuesday May 14 €36

For fans of: Kojaque, Rejjie Snow, Mango x MathMan The GPO Friday May 17 €5-€8

For fans of: Wifisfuneral, Ski Mask The Slump God, Smokepurpp Green Room at The Academy Friday May 17 €20

For fans of: Gus Dapperton, Blue Niall, Homeshake The Bernard Shaw Friday May 17 FREE

For fans of: Cassiano, Paula Lima, Luciana Mello The Sugar Club Saturday May 18 €20

For fans of: Loah, Saint Sister, David Kitt Anseo Thursday May 23 €12

For fans of: Jafaris, Khalid, The Weeknd Whelan’s Saturday May 25 €12.80

For fans of: Ezra Collective, Oscar Jerome, Yussef Kamaal The Sugar Club Thursday May 23 €17.50

For fans of: Lee Scratch Perry, Barrington Levy, Eek-A-Mouse The Sugar Club Friday May 10 €20

For fans of: KARYYN, Field Music, Gulp The Sound House Saturday May 11 €13.50 For fans of: Vernon Jane, Just Mustard, Foals Bello Bar Saturday May 11 €10

For fans of: Fontaines DC, Girl Band, The Murder Capital Whelan’s Sunday May 12 €13.50 For fans of: Candeia, Roberto Ribeiro, Clara Nunes Vicar Street Tuesday May 14 €49

For fans of: MF DOOM, Milo, Shabazz Palaces The Sugar Club Friday May 17 €17

For fans of: Cory Wong, Flying Lotus, KNOWER The Sugar Club Friday May 17 €20

For fans of: BARQ, The Internet, Vulpeck The Workman’s Club Friday May 17 FREE

For fans of: MathMan, Tensnake, Grace Jones The Bernard Shaw Saturday May 18 FREE

For fans of: Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, Jane’s Addiction The Olympia Theatre Monday May 20 €47.55

For fans of: Saint Sister, Ariel Pink, Connan Mockasin Whelan’s Friday May 24 €17.50

For fans of: Silverbacks, Bitch Falcon, Just Mustard Lost Lane Saturday May 25 €22.80

For fans of: Buddy Guy, Eric Burdon, Edgar Winter The Sugar Club Friday May 24, Saturday May 25, Sunday May 26 €20

RICO NASTY & FLOHIO

For fans of: Doja Cat, Kenny Beats, JPEGMAFIA The Academy Tuesday May 28 €20

HEALTH

For fans of: Oneohtrix Point Never, Forest Swords, Liars Button Factory Thursday May 30 €20

SOAK

NNIC

NILE RODGERS & CHIC

BULMERS FORBIDDEN FRUIT FESTIVAL

For fans of: Villagers, Homeshake, Pillow Queens Thursday May 30 The Sugar Club €20

For fans of: Sister Sledge, Odyssey, Cheryl Lynn St. Anne’s Park Sunday June 2 €49.90

For fans of: J Colleran, LAOISE, Saint Sister Whelan’s Thursday May 30 €13

For fans of: Skepta, Jon Hopkins, Earl Sweatshirt Royal Hospital Kilmainham Saturday June 1, Sunday June 2 & Monday June 3 €69.50-€169

Exhibition of the month LUIS ALBERTO RODRIGUEZ’S ‘THE PEOPLE OF THE MUD’ PhotoIreland Festival celebrate their 10th anniversary with a three month long event this summer. It begins with an exhibition of new work by Luis Alberto Rodriguez’s ‘The People of the Mud’, produced during his Futures residency (a European Union co-funded photographic platform). Wexford, founded by the Vikings, was originally named Veisafjrðr, meaning ‘inlet of the mud flats’. Luis’ project title is therefore a nod to heritage and continuance. The work is a geographical study of both land and body. Identifying points on a map as well as melding bodies; an opportunity to talk about roots, history, heritage, land and the tools used to subdue it.

‘The People of the Mud’ kicks off on May 3 at The Library Project, Temple Bar. photoireland.org

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nnic Words: Carla Jenkins / Photography: Ellius Grace

hen you listen to a good tune for the first time, it takes a few moments for your brain to catch up with what you’re hearing. I mean, of course, you know it’s a good song, but it’s that moment when, in your head, you think, ‘Fuck, there is something here’. Listening to Nnic’s (real name Naoise) debut track ‘Pillars’, which came out in 2018, is a bit like that: it takes a few moments for the sound of the track to diffuse through your mind, to separate all the different parts that make it what it is. There is the soulful, strong soprano voice; the low-key sub-bass pulsating underneath. And of course, the lyrics, which for ‘Pillars’ come with a beautiful lyric video, making them literally come alive. ‘There’s only a drought / when we use words from war / to cause a bitter decay / but no love can survive / without pillars of stone in place’ ‘Pillars’ has had great success on Spotify, racking up a healthy number of streams before Nnic has even played her first official Dublin Show, happening in Whelan’s later this month. I ask Nnic how she came to start making music in this almost roundabout way. “Complete beginner’s luck, I think,” she replies. “It’s a great marketing tool and definitely exposes you to an audience you may not normally reach. I submitted ‘Pillars’ to Spotify’s playlist submission two weeks before the August 24 release. Two weeks after that I got an email saying it had been added to a playlist now named Frühlings Chillout, and it’s remained on it ever since.” Nnic is a dark horse, a seemingly fullyformed musician who has sprang from the ether, ready to perform. With 10 years of classical training under her belt, the Dublin native creates tracks that she describes as ‘neo-soul’. “It’s soulful in the vocal arrangements with a mix of different productions to accompany it,” she explains. Nnic has just performed her first festival at Output in Belfast and is set to play shows in Dublin and London this summer. That slot at Output marked her live debut. I was impressed by how far she’s come with just three releases to her name and settled on the fact that her classically trained vocals blended with her unique electronic output has helped Nnic to stand out from the pack. “I’m very interested in electronic production and how you can interpret organic instruments to sound completely different,” she reveals. How does being classically trained influence

her music now? “I think it’s mostly influenced my harmony choices and vocal control. I’ve been out of training for almost 10 years now, so I desperately need to get back to it to avoid doing any further damage! I did a short sound engineering course in Windmill Lane to get a hold of the basics of music production. The song development process only really got going when I showed some fellow musician friends my demos, and we went from there.” We talk further about Nnic’s love for classical music and she tells me her family take an annual Christmas trip to see Handel’s Messiah every December. I can’t see how Handel’s Messiah finds its way into Nnic’s tunes, but I’d imagine that if there was any replication it would be in the appreciation of women in ‘Pillars’. Coming from a ‘place of admiration for women who selflessly support and uplift others’, there is something beautiful in the support that Naoise has had in championing such a song, especially in such a masculine and male-dominated arena as in electronic production. I ask her what her advice would be to any females wanting to make their way in such a realm. 51

“Don’t be a victim about being a female in the music industry, for starters. If that completely clouds your focus, that’s all you’ll end up talking about and women have a lot more to offer than that one perspective. Only shape your image to something you’re comfortable with and have a sense of humour about criticism.” Influenced by the likes of James Blake and Blood Orange, who she describes as ‘other greats that just keep getting greater’, I ask if she felt any element of Irishness coming through her music or influencing its creation. “I’ve always adored singers like Dolores O’Riordan and Sinead O’Connor for their distinctive singing styles,” Nnic tells me. “The Gloaming are also a super talented band with a similar warmth I try to achieve in some of my songs.” “At the minute I’m enamoured with Solange’s new album ‘When I Get Home’, and its visuals. The structuring of the album has completely changed how I view melody sequencing and song writing, so it’s been great to constantly mull over.” Visuals are something that seem key to Nnic’s output. As I wrote earlier, ‘Pillars’ comes with a truly beautiful lyric video, where etchings of the female figure are constructed and dissolve into the words that form the song. ‘Grow’, Nnic’s latest release, has a video comprised of the artist singing direct to camera, cutting in between with colours and textures as the song itself literally grows. OThanks to Spotify and other streaming services, visuals are more important than ever and this is something Nnic supports. “Adding a visual clip to the track listing is a great step forward in preserving the full project of the song.” Nnic created five different versions of ‘Grow’ before she settled on the one that was released. I ask her if she felt that editing was important to her music and going through these different versions meant that she was able to grow as an artist to finally land on a track or sound that she was happy with. “Absolutely,” she answers. “When I started ‘Grow’, I wasn’t sure what my primary genre was, so it was the process of making and remaking the song that taught me a lot. It can boil down to whether you still get a good feeling from the sound or not, but that feeling definitely has to be a shared one. A second or third opinion is crucial.” Sharing and communicating seems to me to be at the heart of all of Nnic’s music. “I listen to a lot of Ted Talks and psychologists’ podcasts, and often take notes from them.” Nnic also takes notes from the world around her, literally writing her reality into her creative and musical landscapes, memorialising her experiences, in a way. “I take notes from interesting stories from my family and my friends. They may not always know I’m doing that, but now they do!”

T. S. Eliot wrote in his ‘Tradition and the Individual Talent’ that artists, when they emerge, join a stream or a ‘tradition’ of artists who come before and after, both changing and remaining the same in order to keep up with the flow of a particular place’s creativity. In the same way, Nnic joins the ranks of Irish artists in their tradition of strong, beautiful music – even down to her name. “I wanted my artist name to have a sliver of ‘Irishness’ to it, so I abbreviated my Irish name Naoise Nic Gearailt to Nnic.” The Dublin music scene is something that she appreciates being a part of, because of that communal, communicative feel. I asked what she liked the most about being a part of the scene. “I love how easy it is to connect and work with fellow creatives,” she says. “There’s an incredibly high standard of creativity here.” There is, indeed, which is what makes it such a joy to write features with artists like Nnic. I’ve written a lot before on the new type of musician emerging, particularly in Ireland, that of the ‘bedroom pop’ musician. In the past, I would have been tempted to say that Nnic is one of those musicians too – producing and creating her own sound, the layering of classical and electronic to create a contemporary pop feel, that ‘neo-soulism’ she was talking about, but I don’t feel like saying that now. There is something too outwards, too chatty and open about Nnic to try to argue that she creates her sound solely by herself. Of course, that’s not to say that bedroom musicians are the type that lurk alone producing their music in dark rooms: they don’t. I think what I mean is that Nnic’s music seems like the effort of herself, of course, but also a reflection of everyone who works with her, everyone who listens to her, everyone who gives a suggestion or is on the other end of the headphones. Perhaps it works, that the only question I have that Nnic can’t answer is what her music sounds like, to her. She didn’t fill the void with explanations or stutters, but just left it blank. It seems bizarre that someone who works so closely with a sound cannot identify it, but I think, for this artist, the answer makes perfect sense. Nnic’s music sounds different to everyone, because no two people will hear the same thing when listening. Her mother may recognise a conversation she had only the other day; her friend a line they recommended stay in. To me, her tracks differ every time I put them on, with one thing jumping out that didn’t before. Nnic is a musical chameleon, an electronic anomaly that reflects the sounds around her, and her reality. It is, perhaps, the sound of a future. It’s an exciting thing, not to be tampered with, but to be left to grow. Nnic plays Upstairs at Whelan’s on May 30.

MENTAL HEALTH

& MUSIC Words: Eric Davidson Photography: Olga Kuzmenko

icking off in 2018, SelfMade is an event series founded by artist Joanna Ban and musician/label co-founder Julie Hawk of HAVVK and Veta Records. Joanna and Julie have curated spaces where musicians of all levels can share experiences and find resolutions to the issues that surround being an independent artist in modern Ireland. The next edition is a two-part event on May 25, sponsored by IMRO Ireland, a partnership Julie says she not only appreciates, but sees as a “really positive” way for them to distribute funding. ‘Mind YourSelf: Mental Health and Music’ will look at mental health in the Irish music scene and in particular the challenges affecting developing musicians in their professional and personal lives. As well as performances and panels, there will also be workshops like the one led by psychotherapist, musician, researcher and BIMM lecturer, Aoife Ruth, in collaboration with Wyvern Lingo’s Caoimhe Barry. “There has been a huge step-up in the level of conversation on mental health in recent years and we’re proud to use our next event to encourage conversation, break the stigma, and facilitate a route to a healthier music industry.” With the latest SelfMade event, a workshop coming up in Belfast as part of the

Women’s Work festival and many more events on the horizon, we caught up with the pair to see why they started the initiative and they explain how it’s become an important outlet for artists on this island. What was the catalyst for you starting SelfMade? Joanna: I was looking for an art project, and decided to do a series of portraits of Irish women in music, to highlight the range of music these independent artists were producing, and, just as importantly, how they were doing it. When I started putting the art together I was put in touch with Julie. She suggested the portraits could form part of a bigger event focused around a panel discussion, enabling the women we were featuring to discuss their experiences in the Irish music industry - the unseen sides of getting a DIY music project off the ground. Julie is also a branding and organisational genius, not two of my strengths! And from those conversations SelfMade was born. Our first event sold out, and we realised on the night, which was attended both by fans and artists, there was a clear appetite to continue the conversation. Was the idea of setting up more intimate discussions important for SelfMade?

Julie: Absolutely. When you think about the work that a musician does, what the public sees are their performances, their releases and their social media, the iceberg analogy is pretty tired but it works pretty well for this. We wanted to create a stage where artists could be celebrated and talk freely about the other huge percentage of work they put in that you don’t see on stage or hear on record. Most of the time, this isn’t something musicians are encouraged to do, especially not on stage. So we wanted to turn this on its head, and create a platform for honest discussion, to reflect on challenges and successes, and to see how other artists, in the audience and on the panel, can learn from them. What dothese panels offer that a talk or performance wouldn’t? Julie: I think you can learn a lot from a talk and there are some amazing facilities out there if you want to listen to experts share their knowledge about the industry. But as a musician, I know these can also be quite intimidating experiences. Even if you learn a lot, the advice can often seem inaccessible. A big part of the SelfMade idea was to bridge this gap between industry level advice and the work that artists do every day. It’s a way of encouraging artists to learn from each other.

“WE WANTED TO CREATE A STAGE WHERE ARTISTS COULD BE CELEBRATED AND TALK FREELY ABOUT THE OTHER HUGE PERCENTAGE OF WORK THEY PUT IN THAT YOU DON’T SEE ON STAGE OR HEAR ON RECORD.” 56

The workshop at your next event will be about embracing the inner critic, can you explain a little more about that?

afterwards she said she had felt liberated by the experience, and we were delighted by that.

Julie: We are so happy to be working with Aoife Ruth for the workshop element of Mind YourSelf, along with Caoimhe Barry of Wyvern Lingo. Aoife is a psychotherapist who specialises in working with musicians. We explored a lot of different topics for the workshop, but when the ‘inner critic’ was mentioned we felt it was something we could really build on and engage people with. Everyone, especially creative people, will have their own experiences of dealing with the inner critic - whether that’s going through creative block, a lack of self-belief, or overall career doubts. On top of this, there are external pressures, specific to music, that can make musicians more vulnerable to this… The fact that we may be comparing each other’s careers on social media, or that we are often led to believe that music is a frivolous career choice. It’s not an easy combination. Aoife’s workshop is designed to break down the stigma of going through periods of self-doubt and will challenge people to listen to their inner critics differently, when these moments arise.

You have some big names in Irish music on board, as well as up and comers, does that show just on how many levels these issues permeate?

What’s been the main feedback from previous events? What has been the big benefits of them? Joanna: We felt so much buzz and positivity on the night at our first event that we stuck up a sheet of paper labelled ‘Our next event…?’ and encouraged people to throw their ideas at us. The number of responses received made us realise we had uncovered a gap in terms of the types of events running in Dublin, and that people were keen to get involved in the conversation. The main feedback has been that it’s unusual to see artists together talking so openly about some of the difficulties and practicalities of getting a project off the ground, and that people have found the sessions insightful and useful, as well as therapeutic. We have been really delighted, particularly with the feedback from the artists we’ve worked with, people have described the evenings as cathartic, refreshing and honest, and that they’ve left feeling lifted. Even better, there has been a general message that SelfMade is helping to cultivate a supportive network within the DIY music scene based on openness, camaraderie and positivity. We can’t ask for more than that. One artist in particular had been so nervous about taking part, but

Joanna: Yes. We think it’s really important to offer a range of perspectives at our events, and have been so pleased at artists’ willingness to get involved and to share their experiences. Even when projects are going really well and are having success, there is, I think, this idea that automatically means everything is great, or that that success has somehow just happened. Everyone who has a career in music, however well established, has gone through years of graft and disappointment and highs and lows to get there and we want to acknowledge that, and bridge that gap between perception and reality a bit. We think that it benefits everyone involved to hear that range of experiences, and the feedback has been that our panellists to date have got a lot out of the experience. For new DIY artists, that’s really inspiring to hear. For up and coming artists, there is an opportunity to meet people in the same boat, or people who’ve already done what they’re trying to do, and our events, we hope, encourage people to network and discuss their projects, to trade tips and stories on what is working well and what isn’t. There’s also the opportunity to ask our panel questions, which often unveils particular issues or conversation pieces that continue after the event. One key benefit is for those attending to see that others have faced or are facing the same or similar difficulties and trials, it’s both reassuring and validating to know that, with the added benefit of an open forum to discuss practical solutions. You also explore topics through art and limited-run zines, can you take me through these? Julie: I have to admit, I originally thought the The Unseen Zine would be a totally additional element to our events, like a souvenir. But it’s become a whole extension of what our panels do. Inclusivity is really important to us - we want to enable participation and input from as many artists as we can at each event, and we’ve found that inviting artists to make submissions for our zines itself provides a small platform for artists to talk about their expe-

riences and to make this knowledge available so that other artists can learn and feel less alone. We also love the freedom that it gives the artists to express themselves, through illustrations or poetry, right through to longer written pieces. It’s become a way for us to build a sense of community and support even with people who can’t make it to our events. Is this a way to further the ‘DIY’ aspect of the event? Julie: For sure. There are so many musicians out there getting their hands dirty, running gigs, making videos, designing merch. Our art and zines are a nod to this hands-on work. Our plan is to always have a visual element to everything we do, and this is definitely one of the reasons why. We are very proud to be a DIY organisation and we’re very honest about how grassroots we are. Joanna and I didn’t actually meet until our first event - we put the whole thing together through email, Skype and Whatsapp. And a few angel volunteers. If ever someone asks if we have an office, it’s definitely a small pat on the back. There are certainly positive steps being made in promoting positive mental health and removing stigma, but there’s a long way to go. What’s next for SelfMade? Joanna: While our events all focus on different aspects of the DIY music scene, one central theme to all our events, and a key objective for us, is the idea of open, honest discussion. I absolutely subscribe to the idea that a problem shared is a problem halved, as cliche as that might sound. And if we can encourage people to talk candidly about their trials, but just as importantly, to celebrate their own successes and the triumphs of others, I think that in itself contributes to a focus on wellbeing and goodwill in the Irish music scene. We want to continue to remove some of the barriers that people might perceive to exist in terms of sharing their stories or admitting when things are hard. It’s just a fact that making art, and particularly making a career in the arts, is difficult for so many reasons, and comes with myriad pressures that just don’t exist in other sectors. Knowing there’s a supportive network around we think goes a long way to easing some of that pressure - and our inbox is always open! Mind YourSelf: Mental Health and Music takes place in The Tara Building on Saturday May 25.

SEA SWIMMING FOR THE SOUL Words: Hannah-Louise Dunne / Photography: Mark William Logan & Greg Purcell

here are few moments that compare. Which may just be why so many of us make the pilgrimage each and every week to swim in the freezing waters of the Irish Sea. Here in Dublin, the history of sea-swimming is a storied one. From the appearance of the Forty Foot in James Joyce’s Ulysses to the annual tradition of a Christmas dip around the coast each year, the sea has long held an appeal for locals and visitors alike. And with open-water swimming winning fans across the globe, the Irish Sea is attracting a whole new generation of sea-swimmers. Come rain, hail or snow – seldom sun - swimmers come

together throughout the day, gathering in the morning, afternoon or evening in local swimming spots like the Forty Foot, Sandycove, Clontarf, or further along the coast in Malahide or Vico Baths. While for others like me, it’s a weekend event – a way to mark the end of one week and the start of another. From a desire to embrace the natural cycles of the seasons to a growing awareness of the health and wellbeing benefits of jumping in the cold water of the Irish Sea, the ritual of swimming regularly is one that appeals to many of us. Whatever the reason we make the journey to the sea, one thing is clear - we’re hooked. And it just might be the best thing that’s happened to us.

JOURNEY TO THE SEA For me, my journey to the sea was once highly unlikely. A seasoned swimmer in my childhood, I’d become a strictly fair-weather dipper since moving to Dublin in 2006 with sea-swimming resigned to the occasional summer heatwaves. But last May, a tired mind and body prompted my first early-season dip. And the dip after that. Until, a summer of swimming in Seapoint followed, where my other half and I rediscovered our love of the sea. Despite my initial trepidation, swimming added a whole new perspective to my week. With the coast just a Dart ride away – or a cycle or spin out – a swim around the buoys helped to put my mind at ease after a busy day and also gave me a new appreciation for Dublin. Swim after swim followed until before long, winter arrived. But while the idea of watching the evenings draw in usually sends a shiver down my spine, the winter season offered a whole new swimming challenge. Could I manage to defy my aversion to being completely freezing and swim throughout the cold-water season? And if I did, what it would be like? With this question front of mind, I set out to keep up my weekly swims. And I had help, in the form of my mum, who had also fallen for the sea over the summer. But while I had to make my way from town, she took on the task of driving the 160-kilometre round trip every weekend from Mullingar to swim with me in Sandycove. Joined by other family members and my other half on special occasions, our weekly swims continued.

WINTER SWIM With the summer sun a distant memory, the water’s temperature and texture had changed, turning to a steel-grey as the months pass and the crowds of summer-swimmers thin out to leave behind the brave. As temperatures dropped below 10 degrees from January, making the journey into the sea has proved to be a mental (and physical) test. Faced with an unwelcoming winter day, the thought of the water is enough to set your heart racing and toes curling, as you approach the edge. But despite the bracing cold, it’s a ritual we’ve kept up. In rougher weather, we retreat to the sheltered pool area in Sandycove, where floating along with the rolling waves, it’s easy to forget about your troubles. Other days, the sun has shone, and the city’s coast has looked almost tropical, with emerald green water catching the light as you step into the oncoming tide. And even as we’ve had to adapt to the inevitable drop in temperatures, our swim has remained a highlight of each week. If only for the constant reminder of our unexpected resilience in the face of the icy temperatures, or the tales and tips we learned from seasoned sea-swimmers, who watch in amusement as we screech our way into the waves. For along with the dip, the weekend trip to the coast has led us to meet other swimmers, each there for their own reasons, heading out after a heavy weekend, long week at work, or simply keeping up a lifelong tradition of swimming. Now, with my swimmerversary approaching, I’m looking forward to the warmer water returning. But come next January, I plan to be there with my striped swimsuit on, ready and waiting for the winter sea session to begin. And I’m not alone in our dedication.

SINÉAD

Blacrock Swimmer Based in nearby Blackrock where she runs Moons Yoga Loft, Sinéad Mooney is also fast approaching her one-year swimmerversary. On hand each weekend in Sandycove or the Forty Foot, swimming has become a weekly ritual for Sinéad and her group of local friends. “I have a beautiful circle of friends that persevere in the sea in all weathers together,” she explains. “There’s many a WhatsApp ping heard to flag that someone is heading down. The tribe mentality really helps with both getting up and out even on grey days, but also the camaraderie in the water (plus the coffees after!) all make it such a special community event.” While the winter water can dip below seven degrees, Sinéad and her group still make the journey into the sea. “I always have the bleating tiny voice inside that says, ‘You can’t do this, you’re a wimp, you don’t like the cold, you don’t have a wetsuit’,” she notes. But afterwards, the feeling is incomparable. “You feel really alive - I tend to often say it too, ‘We’re alive’, laughing with the gang. It’s so important to me to constantly remember the fragility of life and instead of being morbid or fearful, use it as a catalyst for embracing each day, each moment, for all it’s worth. “I would love to make it a daily habit and it’s my dream to kick that into play as soon as things settle towards the summer. I want to be one of the older ladies who rock down hail or shine in their robes - ready to rock every day.”

NAOMI

Dún Laoghaire Swimmer Like Sinéad, host of Heart of the Matter podcast and Elements Yoga and Pilates founder, Naomi Sturdy started swimming with a friend. “A friend of mine wanted to take up weekly swims at the Forty Foot at the start of 2017, so we set about going together,” she explains. “The first week in January was definitely the funniest memory I have, I wouldn’t even get in past my shins.” With health and wellbeing central to Naomi’s professional life, she says swimming has given her a new perspective. “I love how I’ve adapted over time to the cold,” she notes. “I had a feeling this year once or twice that I think I could be addicted! There is definitely something alluring about the rush you experience. Especially in the winter when I get down due to the weather or the lack of daylight hours, as soon as I jump in the sea, I feel a little brighter and lighter about life. “I also feel city life can get so busy and noisy, there are distractions and stimulus everywhere. To be able to jump in the sea and have your focus honed right into the present moment is a gift that brings a sense of calm and ease for me.” With summer approaching, Naomi has plans to build on her swimming routine. “I’m looking forward to the weather heating up a little and we can swim further around the buoys at Forty Foot and Sandycove. I really wanted last year to progress the distance I could swim with my head down. I did a triathlon in the summer where I found the swim the most challenging aspect. I would love this year to progress that a little further and get out of my comfort zone.” From swim-rises to weekend dips, sea-swimming is attracting a whole new generation. And with summer fast approaching, there’s no time like the present to start. Even better, next year is a special one in Dublin’s swimming history, as it’s the 100th anniversary of another local tradition – the Liffey Swim, which first took place on July 22, 1920. Devised by engineer, Bernard Fagan, he set up the swim to highlight the good quality of water in the Liffey. So why not join in the countdown to the centenary celebrations and head out along the coast for a dip? I’ll see you there.

GYPSIES ON Words: Hannah Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Connell

THE AUTOBAHN Photography: Anthony Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Connor

he last time I sat down with Gypsies on the Autobahn it was March 2017, two days after the release of their debut album ‘Born Brief’. I met the foursome in the family home of brothers James and Dan Smith for an animated discussion about their first full-length. Just over two years on and the group are set to release their sophomore record, ‘Suspended’, and while lots has changed for James, Dan, Niall and Gary, their integrity and love for their craft remains. I chatted to lead singer and lead lyricist James, alone this time, for a raw and honest dive into how the band has approached album number two. Smith doesn’t beat around the bush and talks openly about ‘Born Brief’, explaining that it didn’t reach the audience the Gypsies would have liked it to. In that sense, they don’t have that pressure to meet the expectations of the first record, but that doesn’t mean working on ‘Suspended’ was an easy feat. All four members had to dig deep and stay motivated. “We had to come from a place of modesty,” James tells me. “We’re not writing solely for ourselves anymore and that changed things, even the lyrical composition of the record. On the first album it was all about me trying to talk to my brothers, talk to my family, talk to my friends and pass on this message of hope, but this time around I just tried to write for myself, I was just trying to lift myself. The same way I was trying to lift my brothers on the first record, I needed some kind of hope that I couldn’t find anywhere else except for when I was writing. The lyrics on this album, they may be a little bit harder to hear but the whole thing felt a little bit truer.” It’s not an easy thing to do, to concede that something may not have worked out exactly as you would have wanted. To determine that a slightly new direction is needed, but this is exactly what the Dublin outfit did and they’re not afraid to admit it. Inspired by a motto passed on from their first manager Dan

Ryan, James tells me that the group work off the idea that every song they write must be better than the last. If it’s not an improvement, they put the track aside to maybe revisit and rework in the future and this is exactly how their forthcoming single ‘Make You Mine’ came to be. It was written five or six years ago and didn’t make the cut for the first record, but the group saw something in it. James had a “eureka moment” when listening to St Vincent’s ‘New York’ on a drive to Cork with Dan last year and later this month the track will resurface as the lead single for the new album. “I figured out where the production should go b e c a us e or i g i nally, in my head, I had produced it kind of like a Coldplay song,” recalls James. “ W i t h a s low build all the way to the end, but when I heard this St Vincent song, I heard how the production should change and how our track would fit as a slightly cleaner, more mature and more thought out song.” I’ve heard snippets from the new album, and it seems as though the direction the band went with ‘Make You Mine’ represents the record as a whole. ‘Born Brief’ was 25 years in the making. There were tracks on that album that the group wrote as teenagers, school boys, but now as they reach their late twenties it’s time to leave that youthful nativity behind and push a bit deeper. “We’re 28, 29, 30, that kind of age group and life beats you a little bit as you grow older,” James says. “The nativity that I had, in the expression of the lyrics, that kind of dissipated. This record feels truer and more raw with a little less of that Facebook sheen where you’re trying to portray this ‘everything is going to be grand’ thing. It feels like a more naked expression about how I’ve been feeling for the last three years and how all of us have been feeling considering our first record didn’t go as well as we’d hoped.” I wondered if Gypsies struggled with moti-

“ON THE FIRST ALBUM IT WAS ALL ABOUT ME TRYING TO TALK TO MY BROTHERS, TALK TO MY FAMILY, TALK TO MY FRIENDS AND PASS ON THIS MESSAGE OF HOPE, BUT THIS TIME AROUND I JUST TRIED TO WRITE FOR MYSELF, I WAS JUST TRYING TO LIFT MYSELF.”

vation following ‘Born Brief’, but James tells me that was never an issue. In fact, the band never took a break and were back in the studio before their debut even came out, and next thing they knew they had five new tracks that they couldn’t let go of. “Our motivation was there because we had the foundations and a new album to finish even before the first album came out,” James recalls. “I suppose you might be able to hear in the record the songs that were written in that period before the first album came out and the songs that were written afterwards. There’s a raw anger in some of the newer songs in comparison to the older ones. We always loved the music we were creating and that was enough motivation to stay in the room together and see this project out.” The passion James and the band have is undeniable. Even when things got tough, to the point where other groups may have split, Gypsies persevered. For them, it’s all about the music. Even arguments get turned into art and James laughs as he remembers the inspiration behind album track ‘Rubicon’; a particularly “rough time” in the group’s relationship that has given birth to “probably one of our favourite songs on the record, if not our favourite”. “It just has a really nice energy about it,” he smiles. “It’s a weird comradery that we have, a brotherly comradery.” ‘Rubicon’ is one such track that came from a new period of writing for James. Penning lyrics between recording sessions is not something he’s done before. On ‘Born Brief’ all 11 songs were ready to go when the group hit the studio, but things happened a little differently this time around. The band’s label had initially requested two four-track EPs, but when they heard what Gypsies had been working on they bumped up the plan to include a full record. “We signed a contract to do two EPs, two sets of four,” James explains. “We went in with Ciaran Bradshaw (the engineer, producer and mixer on the new album) and did two songs. He was just so good to work with. He was easy going and would let you follow any sound you wanted. wanted. After that after that first session we wanted to work with him again. We got in, got the songs done and mixed. We brought them to the label, and they loved them. “We wanted to put it out as a miniature album, something like what Kojaque [younger brother to James and Dan] did [on ‘Deli Daydreams’], but because we were so buzzed about it we went back to the label and said, ‘We have at least two more songs left, let’s make a full record’. So that’s what happened.” It’s been an uphill journey for Gypsies on the Autobahn to reach this point, but we will hear the fruits of the band’s labour this month when ‘Make You Mine’ premieres on May 10, complete with a Kojaque and Adam O’Regan-produced video. Following that, the group will play the record live for the first time in new venue Lost Lane before ‘Suspended’ releases on June 28. “We have a springboard ready that we’re hopefully going to shoot out of,” finishes James. “We’re waiting for that sigh of relief when the world can hear what we’ve been creating because we don’t know if it’s good [laughs], but we feel it’s good, we have faith in it. It feels kind of surreal, but yes, we think we have something really good!” Gypsies on the Autobahn play Lost Lane on May 31. ‘Suspended’ is out on June 28.

CLUB GUIDE

May 2019 HUNEE

GASH COLLECTIVE

LEVON VINCENT

RICHY AHMED & EJECA

DJ MASEO

ARTWORK

NACHTBRAKER

SPACE DIMENSION CONTROLLER

PURE SHORES

SHANTI CELESTE & SAOIRSE

TOMMY FOUR SEVEN & DEFEKT

EARL SIXTEEN & SULLY

KEVIN SAUNDERSON

JUAN ATKINS

For fans of: MCDE, Project Pablo, Axel Boman Wigwam Friday May 10 €20

For fans of: Move D, DVS1, MCDE Yamamori Tengu Saturday May 11 €10

For fans of: A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, Slum Village The Sugar Club Tuesday May 14 €10

For fans of: Fouk, Brame & Hamo, Folamour Wigwam Friday May 17 €13

For fans of: Yaeji, Róisin Murphy, MIA Wigwam Saturday May 18 FREE

For fans of: Perc, Shifted, Chris Liebing Index Saturday May 18 €12

For fans of: Inner City, Derrick May, Octave One Wigwam Friday May 31 €15

For fans of: ELLLL, Bambounou, Mumdance Lucky’s Saturday May 11 FREE

For fans of: Patrick Topping, KETTAMA, Alan Fitzpatrick Index Saturday May 11 €18

For fans of: Skream, Midland, Big Miz Button Factory Friday May 17 €17

For fans of: Floating Points, Objekt, Pariah Kaizen Bar Saturday May 18 €15

For fans of: Palms Trax, Avalon Emerson, O’Flynn Pygmalion Saturday May 18 €15

For fans of: Fred Locks, Junior Delgado, Al Campbell Wigwam Saturday May 25 €15

For fans of: Derrick May, Jeff Mills, Carl Craig Index Sunday June 2 €15

BULMERS FORBIDDEN FRUIT FESTIVAL For fans of: Laurent Garnier, Peggy Gou, Mall Grab Royal Hospital Kilmainham Saturday June 1, Sunday June 2 & Monday June 3 €69.50-€169

Irish Artist Spotlight:

CONOR WALTON “I see myself as a figurative painter in the European tradition, attempting to maintain my craft at the highest level, using paint to explore issues of truth, meaning and value. All my paintings are attempted answers to the three questions in the title of Gauguin’s famous painting, ‘Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going?’.” Dublin-born artist Conor Walton graduated from NCAD in 1993 with a Joint Honours Degree in the History of Art and Fine Art. In 1995 he graduated with an MA in Art History and Theory at University of Essex, going on to study painting and old-master techniques in Florence, Italy, with Charles H. Cecil. conorwalton.com

June 29th

Navan Racecourse Co. Meath

Higher Vision Festival

www.highervision.ie highervisionfestival 72

highervisionfestival

ACTS ANNOUNCED SO FAR:

J E FF

ALA N

CO L E

M O U DA B E R

K K i N

FI T Z PA T RI C K

June 29th

M I L LS

V E

C L AR K E

SOL AR D O

AM E &

H A MO

RO UT E 94

S UN I L

SH A R P E

KA R E

PLUS MANY MORE TO BE ANNOUNCED.

Navan Racecourse Co. Meath

K E T TA M A

S B

orn in the scenic surroundings of Kerry, David Sheerin began dabbling in creating music, like many others, locked away in his bedroom. It wasn’t until he left home to attend college in Limerick when he started sharing his then secret passion with the world. After founding electronic music collective Touch of Techno alongside Charlie Moloney, the crew quickly gained momentum. The duo booked the likes of Baltra and Folamour, and eventually under the name Shee, David was recognised as a DJ in his own right. He’s since played across Europe, at festivals like Life and Higher Vision and released a project called ‘Champagne and Guinness’ which was lauded by his peers, as well as house and disco fans. We catch up with the rising DJ and producer to discuss the importance of the collective and dipping his toes into hip hop.

Words: Eric Davidson

H E

“BE EXPERIM

BE WEIRD IN PRODUCTIO

DON’T CARE WHAT PEOPL THINK.”

MENTAL,

What was your ethos when starting Touch of Techno collective? Did you see a gap in Limerick that you wanted to fill? Touch of Techno started at a house party back around three years ago when I met the two lads. Myself, Charlie and Shane never expected it to grow into one of the most successful nights in Limerick, to be honest! We all had one interest and that was to put on good parties for people who want to party. We never looked at the future really, we just took it in our stride and managed to put on some crazy events, while having as much fun as we could. How important was being part of that collective to your development as a producer and DJ? Ah, it was huge. I would be nowhere without Touch of Techno. It gave me the opportunity to play in front of big crowds and I got to meet some amazing DJs and producers who gave me inspiration and guidance for my productions. It’s crazy, the people I learn from the most are the DJs, promoters and producers who come from Ireland. Just talking on Facebook and asking someone to give some feedback on a track, it goes such a long way with me.

YOUR NS,

ABOUT LE

What’s it been like on the Building Society agency roster? A lot of the artists on it DJ frequently together, is it close-knit? I was lucky enough to be asked by Sam [Greenwood, founder] to be a part of such an amazing agency with such talent on it. Sam is trying to do everything he can to get all the up and coming Irish acts what they deserve, such as gigs and festivals and gigs abroad which I respect massively. I recently moved up to Dublin to get more involved with the whole process. It’s great being a part of TBS. I don’t feel like it’s competitive, everyone is there to help and support each other’s tracks and gigs. Everyone is super sound it’s great to be a part of. Do you find being surrounded by a collective, like Touch of Techno or TBS, helps your creativity? Being involved in collective’s like TOT and TBS is something that is necessary for me to help with my creativity when it comes to my productions and even my DJ sets. You have to be open about your productions and being involved in collectives lets you do that. It lets you express yourself much more than just trying to do it on your own. What environment do you work best in when producing? My bedroom from the hours of about 10pm ’til about 4am! You’re from Killarney, is that where you began making music or was it when you moved to Limerick? I started making music when i was about 14 in my bedroom in Killarney. I was only doing it for fun, never, ever thought I was going to make a career in doing it. But it was really when I moved to college in Limerick where I met the likes of Charlie Moloney and a few of my other friends who really helped me by saying my music wasn’t actually that bad! I’m still learning every day. That’s what is great about produc-

ing, it’s endless. Best hobby I’ve ever picked up [laughs]! Kerry is such a beautiful place, does it have any bearing on the dreamy, textured nature of your productions? Kerry is a wonderful place, bit far away from everything, but an amazing place with beautiful scenery and lovely people. I am a lucky man to say I’m from there. Does it have any bearing on the nature of my productions? I don’t know, maybe! I love basing my tracks, especially the lo-fi hip hop stuff, on a certain mood and image. The mood could be sad, rainy atmosphere or the complete opposite. It depends how I’m feeling in that moment. Speaking of hip hop, tell me about your ‘a lad who can’t cook’ alias on Soundcloud, when did that come about? I have always loved hip hop beats, especially lo-fi hip hop. I have been listening to it for years and what I love so much about the genre is how few rules there are. Put the snare out of time, sample whatever the hell you want, it doesn’t matter! I love that. Complete freedom. When I started producing lo-fi hip hop it was like breath of fresh air from my other stuff as I could do things I couldn’t do when it comes to house music. What I also love is just sitting in my bedroom digging for mad samples. Some of the music you come across is hilarious, but the feeling of when you find a nice sample is wonderful. I’m still only using the alias just for a bit of fun and to experiment. Nothing serious, yet. How immersed in Irish hip hop are you? I’ve always watched the Irish hip hop scene with enthusiasm as I’ve always felt that there is a gap for a proper Irish hip hop, not “best MC inside the country” type hip hop. It’s great to watch it grow. I don’t feel like I have the right to say much as I’m only getting into the whole lo-fi buzz now. I have been following a few lo-fi hip hop producers such as j a r j a r j r, who are all another level compared to me. I listen to these producers and I’m like, ‘How the hell does it sound so clean?’, Irish hip hop is on the rise and it’s going to just explode soon I feel. Would you consider producing for MCs? Oh, of course. I have done a few projects for a few of my close friends before and it was really fun. I’m always up for doing anything when it comes to making music. However, when I do produce all this lo-fi stuff, my aim is to try capture a mood rather than make it a beat someone could rap over… So I’m not sure if my tracks would be for every MC. But we will see! Is it important for you not to limit yourself to one or two genres? So important! I really want to emphasise that. The first genre I produced was liquid drum and bass, then went to more deep house to more disco/French house and now lo-fi hip hop. Never limit yourself. You are a producer and are supposed to show your creativity! Be experimental, be weird in your productions, don’t care about what people think. That’s what I’m doing at the moment and it’s great. Shee plays Opium Club on May 3.

District Magazine & International Literature Festival Dublin present:

Nealo (Live) Leo Miyagee (Live) Dena Anuk$a (Live) Amshwa (Spoken Word) Sea High (Spoken Word) + some surprise guests

MINCING WORDS

Words: Caitriona Devery Photography: George Voronov

’ll tell you a joke. What’s the coldest place in Ireland? Birr… It’s Offaly cold. Badoom boom ching. Isobel Farrelly and Michelle Wickham are the two chefs – or possibly cooks, we’ll get to that in a bit – who staged an unusual offal-based pop up called Na Séasúir (the seasons) in Forest Avenue on a Monday in April. Being from Offaly and a lover of puns I thought the verbal shenanigans would be rolling off my tongue, but I just didn’t have the heart for it, in the (tail) end. My attempts were all tripe. Unlike my puns however, the pop up was a success. Two seatings, at 6.30pm and 9.15pm, and the unexpected arrival of an additional 15 guests due to a booking mix-up, gave the two chefs a challenging service. We didn’t have a written menu but each dish was explained by servers Renata and Todd, who gave the impression they had worked at Forest Avenue for years. We sat down to start with some seeded bread served with a creamy umami- three-year home-fermented miso butter made from smoked sea salt. Normal butter, you’re dead to me. The pre-starter was a deeply rich dark brown oxtail and chervil broth flecked with a vivid green wild garlic oil, and a single soft, wet and gratifyingly dense suet dumpling. The starter was white pudding with venison spiced crackling, an in-house tangy brown sauce and a white cabbage remoulade. We loved the snack of deep-fried crispy pigs’ ears, which were much softer than the scratching-like bites I expected. They came with wild garlic and rosemary salt and a spiced togarashi mayo. Main course was an almost gamey vadouvan spiced goat shoulder from Broughgammon Farm, with a perfectly soft goat heart and liver sausage, smoked goats curd, turnip cannoli, and dandelion and watercress salad leaves. The dessert was a wafery crisp cep custard tart, offset by soured raisins and a poitín parfait. To end, a perfectly zingy rosemary and rhubarb macaron. The flavours overall were hearty and end of winter-y: meaty, complex and deep. Isobel and Michelle have been working together for the past year and a half. Although they both went to DIT at the same time, on different courses, their path didn’t properly cross until 2017. Michelle accuses Isobel of Instagram-stalking her, “she kept liking all my posts”. Isobel protests that there were approaches from Michelle’s side

too. We finally agree that it was a two-way stalk. After chatting online they had their first date in Etto. Their cooking histories are very different. Michelle has just left Two Pups, a casually trendy coffee and grub spot on Francis Street, and before that she was in Rathgar’s Fia. Isobel is a sous chef in Forest & Marcy, the more casual but still high-level sister restaurant to John and Sandy Wyer’s Forest Avenue. She saw herself more as a baker until an eye-opening placement in Chapter One. She said she was clueless about cooking at that level which in ways was an advantage. Isobel also worked for Neven Maguire, who she says really is as nice as he seems. She’s mad about her experience in Forest and Marcy, a spot that always comes up when I ask Dublin based chefs where they like to eat. She says working with head chef Ciaran Sweeney is a dream. “Without a doubt, he’s one of the best chefs I’ve ever worked with. He has a way with flavours like no other chef I’ve worked with. He’s improved my palate and I’m only there eight months”. Michelle was head chef in Farmhill in Goatstown for while so she also has plenty of experience but generally more casual than her pop up partener. She says, “Isobel is more of a fine dining kind of chef. I have a little bit experience but it’s not my passion. I just go in with things. If I never made myself out to be anything more than a cook really”. “Sure so am I,” says Isobel. They both share this down to earth approach to food, but it manifests in different ways. Isobel is more into the fine-dining side of cooking, with the emphasis on craft, precision and discipline. She says, “I like the structure, the organisation. Even just having to get things done at a certain time”. Michelle says, “I wouldn’t have the discipline to be doing what Isobel does. I just don’t take it as seriously. I cook because I enjoy it. If I started to take it that seriously and got stressed out about it, I wouldn’t enjoy it. I wouldn’t be able to do it”. The pressure of a high-end kitchen is on another level, “I’m too craic-oriented.” Saying that, Michelle clearly likes the creative side of cooking. The concept for the pop up was hers. “I’m good with the ideas, Isobel is good at executing things”. Michelle’s cousin Sonia Wickham did the haunting artwork for the event, and she hopes to get keep her on board for the next ones.

“WE WANTED TO COOK STUFF YOU DON’T SEE ANYMORE”

Both women had grannies who fostered a love of food, including offal. Michelle says, “we based it [the pop up] on stuff that people don’t really eat anymore. We love eating that kind of food, and you just don’t find that kind of food on menus in Dublin anymore”. Fergus Henderson’s nose to tail eating is an obvious reference point. Isobel says they read Henderson’s books as inspiration and went to his London restaurant, St John’s. “We wanted to cook stuff you don’t see anymore,” Isobel tells me. “Like the white pudding, you see plenty of black pudding. White pudding it’s gorgeous.” Michelle agrees, “With the brown sauce, it’s very Irish. Other things we made were nostalgic, like the suet dumpling and oxtail broth.” But she says mostly “it was about trying to get as much flavour into things as possible”. They were planning and preparing for weeks, searching for ingredients like the goat’s hearts from Broughgammon farm and the dandelion flowers from Dave Heffernan. Some of the preparations took days, like the bone broth and some of the sauces. The pigs’ ears were slow cooked overnight sous vide style. Despite the preparation it was the first time either of the chefs had taken on something like this. Michelle said it was “the first time I ever saw Isobel stressed. We weren’t stressed when people were there, it was fine. Just the hour before… it was like oh god, oh god”. Both Michelle and Isobel are a bit despon dent about Dublin at the moment. Michelle sees a bit of a shift in terms of opportunities for setting up businesses, “during the recession that’s when all the little independent places started popping up and now they’re just getting pushed out. The re are cranes everywhere. It makes me feel overwhelmed. It’s taking the poverty and putting it under a carpet.”

Isobel compares Dublin to her two-anda-half year stint cooking in San Francisco. She saw the tech-driven transformation of the city as it served the workers of Silicon Valley. Rents became unaffordable, “all the chefs were leaving. Before that it had lots of hippies, artist community. Nine or ten years ago it was affordable. That all changed”. Dublin’s globalised tech-hub status has an effect on our food culture, in good and bad ways. As a small country we’re also very susceptible to importing consumer fads. Michelle doesn’t mince her words when it comes to one obvious example: brunch. “I hate it. It’s all the same, it’s all a replica. I just want normal food. Like that place Canal Bank Café down on Leeson St. It’s just normal bread, not sourdough, and they do omelettes. It’s lovely”. Unsurprisingly they are resolutely against affectation, preferring simple quality over badly done sophistication. Take that bread we all love, sourdough. Isobel says “the majority of sourdough you get in Dublin is not great”. Michelle is more blunt, “it’s shite”. We get Michelle to admit that people like brunch however, she adds, “I’m just not interested in cooking it anymore. There’s only so many eggs you can fry before you start to crack up”. Finally, a decent pun. We talk about how spoilt we are with amazing natural products in Ireland, such as dairy. Isobel agrees “we are spoilt with our dairy, I don’t think we realise how good it is”. Then we get on to every chef’s bugbear: insincere food intolerances. Both of them have seen a huge spike in people not eating certain foods. “Everybody has something these days,” remarks Isobel. “I can’t get over it. There’s too much information. People are self-diagnosing themselves”. Michell is even more direct, “people just have issues, and they project it through food”. They have sympathy for coeliacs and those with genuine allergy and intolerance sufferers but see some customers causing a lot of extra work for kitchens with no real medical reason. Michelle says, “you go to the trouble of making a new menu for a coeliac and then you see them drinking pints”. “Or someone with a lactose allergy, scoffing away on the butter,” adds Isobel, “after us preparing sauces without any butter…”. She finds it curious that the weekday customers rarely have any food issues, “it’s much more noticeable in the restaurant at weekends. During the week its fine, the people who come out during the week just want to enjoy a good meal”. Michelle thinks you can even draw distinctions based on postcodes, “when I worked in Fia in Dublin 6, I swear to God everyone had something wrong with them. I was like you shouldn’t even be eating out, you should be at home wrapped up in cotton wool. But down on Francis Street, in Two Pups, we hardly ever get an allergy… and if someone did have an allergy nobody ever made a big deal about it”.

Regardless of allergy-ridden customers Michelle and Isobel are looking forward to the next iteration of Na Séasúir. Michelle thinks she might have it in Cullenstown in Wicklow where she’s from, on the coast. Isobel’s hours are bit more intense so I get the sense she’d be happy to wait a little while. But August is a possibility. Again the focus would be on less-commonly eaten food, this time from the sea. Michelle says, “I’d like to do some seafood that’s not very normally used. We have oysters, cockles, beautiful seafood, it’s a foragers paradise. I’d just do five small plates, a surprise menu”. Wexford strawberries would make an appearance, as they’re in season in the summer. Sustainability would be key. Michelle finishes, “There’s a cockle strand I’d just go down with a spade and a bucket and I’d dig them up, on Blackhall strand. I could get seaweed, sea lettuce. It’d all be sustainable. We could go down to the oyster farmer and get some oysters, go down to Hook head and get some potatoes, cook them in seaweed. There’s just so much good shit there that’s not being utilised down there at all”. Expect to see more seasonal activity popping up around Ireland soon. @seasuir

SALAD

DAYS Words: Caitriona Devery

Photography: Roly Miller

iller and Grain landed in Dublin three months ago, a vivacious and nourishing addition to the Dublin daytime food scene. Owner Clair Dowling had a past life as a surveyor and she brings something of that logical approach to her new project. The food has flavour, flair and heart, but there’s a real sense of structure and balance to it, as she explains when she talks about cooking. While I’m focusing on salads in this feature, they do a range of daily specials, often made in their egg smoker, which is being used to transform stuff like broccoli, but also does magical things to featherblade beef and trout. They cook free range chickens every day to make their roast chicken sandwiches. Breakfasts feature pimped up porridge, superbly crafted pastries from Bread 41, and spot-on coffee from Imbibe. My lunch was the pork and nduja meatballs (nduja is a spicy Italian cured meat) in a puttanesca sauce, with a couple of salads chosen from the salad bar. The salads here are presented invitingly in giant bowls, all colour and crunch. Flavours are robust, complex and substantial. Feel good foods like farro with a potent preserved lemon dressing and kalamata olives, and a spring salad with oriental radishes. Another bowl has a salad of red and green kale, nori, toasted sesame seeds and a yuzu in a salty miso dressing. The smoked purple sprouting broccoli with preserved lemon, Greek yoghurt and pickled chillies was my absolute favourite; smoked broccoli is a revelation. There’s a quinoa with pomegranate, apple, toasted hazelnuts, spinach, feta, in a lemon and pomegranate molasses dressing. These change all the time in response to what’s in season. Lots of it is Irish grown. Clair says, “Everything we do is fresh, everything is made every day. I’m in there tasting and seasoning and making sure that it’s okay. Freshness levels are so key”. The salads here are a love letter to the perfection of whole foods. There’s nothing prissy or over-precise, but there’s certainly skill. Everything is chopped and thrown together with a bold hand, a strong sense of flavour, and an eye for design. For a long time we had a poor salad game in this country, trying to play at being Mediterranean, but without the… Well, Mediterranean. These are the opposite of the anaemic, weak and watery lettuce and tomatoes salads we all suffered. These salads smack of zest and spring. They’re joyful, big-hearted and make you feel gratitude for the ground.

I’m delighted with the re-education. Being a bit of a dirt bird, the salad section on a menu is the one I often skip. I mostly head straight to the fried, battered and carbohydrate-laden dishes. The belligerent culchie in me also often associates healthy eating with Lovin Dublin, new Fine Gael and Grand Canal Dock. I was happy to have that association quashed. Tiller and Grain reminds me that healthy grub doesn’t have to be smug; even though it’s super good for you, this is generous, filling and exciting food. I spoke with Clair on a bright April morning about her vision for her new place. She only got into food five years ago, but already has a great CV. She did most of her training and work to-date in London, working for Yotam Ottolenghi, the king of feel-good, flavoursome vegetable-centred food, Richard Corrigan, a no-messing old-school meat-loving chef from Ireland, and Bone Daddies, a ‘Japanese Soul Food’ quick-inand-out place that she absolutely loved. Her cooking now has Japanese elements, like miso, yuzu and shisho. The last place she worked was Spring, where she says “it all came together”, largely because of the focus on fresh produce, as they worked with a biodynamic farm. Clair is as excited about vegetables in the way most people might obsess over wine or cheese. She admits, “the guys here think I’m insane, I get so excited by vegetables”. “I show people my cold room. I’m also a big meat fan and fish fan. I’m a big food fan,” she says. Putting vegetables at the heart of the menu means it’s very responsive to what comes in. “That is the luxury of this place, that it changes. Nothing is written in stone. There’s no set menu.” She works with Sean Hussey, who hooks her up with all manner of sexy vegetables from a range of suppliers. Going back to the beginning for a minute, the story of how Clair got the lease for Tiller and Grain is heartening. “I do think things were slightly written in the stars. Because when I came home this was the first place I viewed. The reason I got it was because the landlord is in hospitality themselves. I had to write a little preamble of what I would do and how I would do it.” You get the sense that Clair has found her groove with Tiller and Grain after a later-life career shift. “I know where my skill set is. That is with salads and flavours and meats and freshness and whole cooked foods.” Also in the kitchen is chef Mark Ahessy who was most recently at Hang Dai and brings some Asian influences to the table

as well as a host of experience from other places. Clair’s palate and conviction come through in the confidence of the flavours on show. “I like very strong, punchy flavours. If I say something has preserved lemon in it, I want it to taste like preserved lemons.” Maybe her surveying background in buildings comes through in her approach to constructing a salad. “I think there are some principles. Really good oils and really nice acids. All my salads have a base of really good oil, Maldon salt, lemon zest and lemon juice. That’s like a base note. Then we add a seed, a nut, a crunch of some description, some sweetness, whether that’s honey or dried fruit, and some fresh herbs.” I tell Clair my salad dilemma and how I find it hard to resist the deep fried devil on my shoulder, even when that often doesn’t make you feel good. She is on the same page, “For me the term salad gives it a disservice. I love food. I love chocolate cake and red wine. I am by no means virtuous. But I like the feeling of having eaten something and feeling full but good as well”. Before we part, we discuss Clair’s stance on the environment. She’s vehemently anti-plastic and sends packaging back to supplier, whenever it comes through her door. Her conviction on sustainability is impressive. “I don’t have a general bin, I just have a food compostable bin and a recycling bin. Everything that comes in goes back out. It’s frightening what’s coming through the doors. We don’t use plastic gloves.” Clair says there are moments where running Tiller and Grain is not all plain sailing, but she wouldn’t change a moment of it. There’s a strong idealistic streak in her but there’s pragmatism there too, “I’ve always been trying to save the world,” she tells me, and do you know what? She actually might.

MORE SALAD SPOTS Nutbutter Grand Canal Dock Trendy spot, lots of bowls, but the build-yourown salads are rewarding and robust. What is it these days with engineering salads? They do serve meat and fish, but plants are the main focus here. Lots of veggie options like jackfruit and tempeh. The most popular option is the Mexican bowl which comes with a coconut peanut sauce, puy lentils, brown rice, avocado and a pico de gallo spicy salsa. @nutbutter.ie

147 Deli Parnell Street Barry Stephens of 147 Deli says he wishes he had more space to do a bigger range of photogenic salads. They’re most famous for their sandwiches which have a social media presence all of their own, but their salads are not to be sniffed at. Regular options include an Asian green bean dish with chilli, sprouting broccoli, in a soy dressing. @147deli

Fumbally Merchant’s Quay Manager Swan tells me the Fumbally’s menu is ever-changing. They’ve waved goodbye to root veg for the season and are welcoming lighter, citrusy spring and summer flavours. They’re mainly organic, always seasonal, and always adaptable to gluten and dairy-free needs. Purple Power is a permanent favourite, with red cabbage, carrot and beetroot. They also do their own ferments which they use in Fumbally cooking as well as sell in jars at the new in-house Saturday market. thefumbally.ie

Overends Kitchen Airfield Estate It’s a bit out of town, but worth the trip to this café/restaurant on a working urban farm. The menu often features produce directly from on site, which is a very short farm to fork distance, indeed. Anna told me that one of the faves at the moment is a cabbage slaw with salsa verde, a pesto style dressing. Potato salad with wholegrain mustard is also popular. Keeping waste low is a priority so they pickle a lot, pickled string beans currently liven up some of their dishes. airfield.ie

Honest to Goodness Dame Court The salads here are great value and substantial. Try the chicken Super Salad with cauliflower rice, brown turmeric rice, lots of leaves and a vibrant lime pickle dressing. The Daily Essentials is a no-messing salad with lots of good stuff like broccoli, avocado and sweet potato in a coconutty dressing. They also do a multi-grain, a Cobb and a Caesar. honesttogoodness.ie

Dublin restaurant of the month:

FISH SHOP

76 BENBURB STREET z

here are two Fish Shops in close proximity. A few weeks ago I was at the smaller, more casual one and was reminded how good it is. There’s a takeaway vibe, but a few tables and a counter with stools. I was in Smithfield to see my friend Dee’s mystical film ‘El Hor’ at the Dublin Film Festival. Both restaurants are owned by Peter and Jumoke Hogan, who started out on Blackrock market. Unsurprisingly, fish and chips are the star of the show. Manager Nicky tells me that the battered fish they serve changes with what’s available, but generally it’s cod or hake. The batter recipe is top secret. Their wine selection marks this place out: the focus is on wines from small batch, low intervention, independent natural producers. Their list of wines by the glass changes every week, their full bottle list is in constant evolution. I treated myself (because I’m worth it) to a glass of crisp, fizz-tingling Cava. Killary Fjord mussels are another main option alongside the Catch of the Day, and they do a fish burger, which I didn’t try but it looked very appealing. There’s often other shellfish and I had a couple of beautiful Galway oysters that evening. Their oysters come from all around the coast, if not West Coast often Carlingford. The snacks and sides menu is a treasure trove of pinxtos style little dishes. I had the verdant nocerella olives and the cutest squid slider with some punchy aioli. Everything on the short menu is considered and carefully done. It’s a great place to drop by for something interesting to eat and ideal if you’re dining alone as it’s not too formal. Go meet the sea. @fishshopdublin

Words: Caitriona Devery 88

Smoking (meat) is good for you F

rom May 24-26 Bison Bar on Wellington Quay in partnership with Bulleit Bourbon will play host to a FREE Beer, Bourbon and BBQ festival. The three-day event will be Dublin’s original BBQ joint’s first ever BBQ Festival and they have a stacked weekend planned. “Packed with lots of craft beer, delicious Bulleit Bourbon Whiskey and mouth-watering BBQ, this is the best way to experience the taste of Bison.” They’ll be running the Taste of Bison special all weekend long - with platters, some complimentary Bulleit Bourbon whiskey serves such as Bulleit, Lemon & Tonic, Bulleit Boilermaker from a special menu, plus they’ll be running Whiskey Barons masterclasses “for the curious”. They’ll also have pop-up bars, a brand new, “and fucking hot, hot, hot”, Chilli Challenge and big prizes. Upstairs in Workman’s, Wowburger are getting in on the BBQ action releasing a super-limited Texas Burger and Hot Chilli Dog, which will only be served for the weekend. Bison chefs will also be dishing out free tasters throughout the weekend. Bluegrass band Prison Love will be playing live all weekend long, and Bubblegum DJs will be streaming live ‘Boiler Room style’ on the Friday dishing out Afrobeats and some tropical basslines. The party starts on Friday May 24 from 5pm to late, and on Saturday May 25 and Sunday May 26 3pm to late. First 100 guests on each day will receive a free Bulleit cocktail, so get there early. For more information and full schedule visit bisonbar.ie/bbq-festival-dublin

bisonbar.ie @bisondublin

e h t f 5o bes t & d o o f drink spots

Lists aren’t just for clickbait, they’re actually pretty practical sometimes. If you’re new to Dublin use these selections as a guide to the places you should hit up. We add new ideas to this index every month. 90

BURGERS Bujo Sandymount bujo.ie Bunsen Wexford St., St. Anne St., Essex St. East & Ranelagh bunsen.ie Wowburger Wellington Quay, Wexford St., Parnell St., Wicklow St. & Ranelagh Wowburger.ie Generator Hostel Smithfield Generatorhostels.com

MEXICAN Masa Lower Stephen St. masadublin.com 777 Georges St. 777.ie Picado Mexican Pantry Richmond St. picadomexican.com

SEAFOOD Fish Shop Smithfield fish-shop.ie Rosa Madre Temple Bar rosamadre.ie Bastible South Circular Road bastible.com Klaw Temple Bar klaw.ie Catch-22 Clarendon St. catch-22.ie

OYSTERS East Café Bar/King Sitric Howth kingsitric.ie

Storyboard Islandbridge storyboardcoffee.com

Musashi Capel St. musashidublin.com

3fe Lower Grand Canal Quay 3fe.com

Ukiyo Exchequer St. ukiyobar.com

The Fumbally Fumbally Lane thefumbally.ie

BRAZILIAN

ICE CREAM

Plus 55 Bakery Bolton Street plus55bakery.ie

Murphy’s Wicklow St. murphysicecream.ie

Wigwam Middle Abbey Street wigwamdublin.com

Scoop Aungier St. & Ranelagh scoopgelato.ie

Café Mineiro Crown Alley

Storm in a Teacup Skerries Gino’s Grafton St., Henry St. & South Great Georges St. ginosgelato.com Sun Bear Gelato Dawson St.

COCKTAILS Drop Dead Twice Francis Street dropdeadtwice.com Delahunt Lower Camden Street delahunt.ie Drury Buildings Drury Street drurybuildings.com Peruke & Periwig Dawson Street peruke.ie The Liquor Rooms Wellington Quay theliquorrooms.com

CHINESE Lee’s Charming Noodles Parnell St. Hang Dai Camden St hangdaichinese.com

Real Brasil Capel Street realbrasilfoods.com

PIZZA Coke Lane Pizza Lucky’s, Meath Street and The Glimmerman, Stoneybatter @cokelanepizza Big Blue Bus The Bernard Shaw, South Richmond Street thebernardshaw.com Dublin Pizza Co Aungier Street dublinpizzacompany.ie The Yarn Liffey Street Lower theyarnpizza.com Sano Exchange Street Upper sano.pizza

COFFEE Coffee Angel A number of locations around the city coffeeangel.com Network Aungier Street networkcafe.ie Two Boys Brew North Circular Road twoboysbrew.ie

Seafood Café Temple Bar klaw.ie

Hilan Capel St.

Shoe Lane Tara Street shoelanecoffee.ie

Matt The Thresher Pembroke St. Lower mattthethresher.ie

Mak Ranelagh mak.ie

Nick’s Coffee Ranelagh @NicksCoffeeCo

Oyster Bar at the Shelbourne St. Stephen’s Green shelbournedining.ie

Lee Kee Parnell St.

VIETNAMESE

JAPANESE

Pho Viet Parnell Street phoviet.ie

The Bull & Castle Lord Edward St. fxbuckley.ie

FERMENTING Fia Rathgar Road fia.ie Meet Me in the Morning Pleasants St. mmim.ie

Yamamori Tengu Great Strand St. yamamori.ie Michie Sushi Ranelagh michiesushi.com The Ramen Bar South William St. theramenbar.ie

Pang Kevin Street lovepang.ie Jolin’s Vietnamese Coffee House Portobello Bun Cha Moore Street buncha.ie

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