The Underground of Happiness

More tunes from 2023. 20 more of the best. Enjoy. x Playlist 1. The Toads – Nationalsville (Upset The Rhythm) 2. Vanishing Twin – Afternoon X (Fire Records) 3. Me Lost Me – Eye Witness (Upset The Rhythm) 4. I Dreamed I Dream – The Bass (bandcamp) 5. Tandem Felix – There’s a new sheriff in town (bandcamp) 6. Terry – Gold duck (Upset The Rhythm) 7. Immaterial Possession – To the fete (Fire Records) 8. Lael Neale – I am the river (Sub Pop) 9. Death and Vanilla – Looking glass (Fire Records) 10. Trá Pháidín – m’anam go b’ea (bandcamp) 11. Nagasaki Swim – Sleep (Excelsior Recordings) 12. Nighttime – Veil (Ba Da Bing Records) 13. Symbol Soup – Overdressed (Sad Club Records) 14. The Notwist – Exit strategy to myself (Live from Alien Research Center) (Morr Music) 15. Aoife Nessa Frances – Automatic love (Partisan Records) 16. Spencer Cullum feat Erin Rae – Betwixt and between (Full Time Hobby) 17. BMX Bandits – Long forgotten summers (Tapete Records) 18. Holl

A time of year for lists. Or for remembering. Here's some tunes from 2023. Enjoy. x Playlist 1. Ella Ronen – Truth (BB*Island) 2. Pierre Bastien & Michel Benabila – Stray carrier pigeon (Pingipung) 3. Hochzeitskapelle + Eddie Marcon – Itsuko Manika Watashitachi (Alien Transistor) 4. Gratin Carnival – City of silver and blue (Alien Transistor) 5. Henrik Lindstrand – Tumlare (One Little Independent) 6. Minwhi Lee – Borrowed tongue (Alien Transistor) 7. Sufjan Stevens – Will anybody ever love me (Asthmatic Kitty) 8. Marta del Grandi – Snapdragon (Fire Records) 9. Mitski – Star (Dead Oceans) 10. Rachael Lavelle – Let me unlock your full potential (Rest Energy) 11. Nuria Graham – Fire Mountain, oh sacred ancient fountain (Primavera Labels / New Deal / Verve Forecast & Universal Music Spain) 12. Arborist – Dreaming in another language (Kirkinriola Records) 13. Boa Morte – Hard to know (Gare du Nord) 14. Naima Bock – Lines (Sub Pop/Memorials of Di

The green room at Henchy’s buzzing. Plenty of non JFF punters. Room for allsorts. JFF. 4 piece band. Voice-guitar-telecaster-tin whistle. Double bass. Clarinet-guitar-drones. Drums-4 track. Many interesting elements. Unfortunately they amount to less than the sum of the parts. Some genuinely interesting moments around JFF’s patented double whistle – two whistles, sellotape – giving fascinating undertones. Would remind you of the the uileann pipe background drone, as cc put it. The thought occurs that a different arrangement of the same elements might even produce more interesting results. Talent not in question. On support Trá Pháidín are a different kettle of fish. Intoxicating shifting improv jazz trad krautrock impossibly groovy two drummers gotta love that they even had a fucking harp onstage what’s more you could hear it harder than it sounds shades of Tortoise one minute Can the next even Neu! K heard a bit of Godspeed guitar violins brass flute

Otherworldly sounds. Medieval. Baroque. But modern. Filtered vocals. Pillowy synths. Flutters of saxophone and clarinet. Pitter patter drums. And the voice. With fascinating diction. Giving every word a strangeness/newness. With yearning. And feeling. Along with that. A remarkable poise on stage. A presence. Self-assurance. All in all. Intriguing and wonderful. Big Dreams by Rachael Lavelle

Ana Palindrome . My second time seeing this 3 piece. Violin sometimes guitar. Bass. (Note – Hofner. Hello Paul McCartney.) Moog and friends. Two badass women out front. Starting to love the development of badass Irish women ruling the stages lately. Brushed violin initially. Playing with the texture not the melody. Something about it would remind you of John Cale on viola. New York John Cale. Slides. Scrapes. Drones. Woman on bass avoiding root notes. Harmonics. Note flutters. Man on Moog in charge of beats and swells. To carry on the New York theme. Distinct bang of no wave from the songs. Of anything goes. Of dance music and ballads. Rock n roll or jazz. Club or concert hall. Pop and experimental. Chanted Meredith Monk vocals. If they were in New York no doubt already record deal and art branding. Treasure this under the radar shit. Danb emosewa gnikcuf is a palindrome of fucking awesome band. Tandem Felix are superior country rock with excellent

Harp. Double bass. Drums. The Dublin couple next to us wonder if we’ve heard of Joanna Newsom. But you would be put in mind immediately of Alice Coltrane. In fact they play an Alice Coltrane song. Cosmic string washes. Punctuated basslines carrying the weight. Fluttering beats with gorgeous cymbal work. Songs of activism and engagement. Actual jazz. A glorious night in church.

A former bullring. A handsome round red brick building with bars and restaurants at every orifice. 27 degrees. Shorts weather. Metro a dream. Burgers at the Pequeno. Beer 4 quid a pint in the venue. Where would you get it. The first of two nights in the bullring for the band. No repeats = Different set both nights. A stunningly beautiful venue. Intact enclosed boxes. A cauldron of sound. Some highlights from High violet . Conversation 16. I was afraid, I’d eat your brains Cause I’m evil Runaway. I don’t even think to make I don’t even think to make I don’t even think to make corrections We sing along like children. Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks to finish. Unplugged. Lisbon loves them. A wonderful night.

The album launch show. Pyrrhic . The album is lovely. Shades of Beth Orton but also MBV. The live show though brings to mind pre-1960s roots of rock n roll. It’s all good. Howls and squalls and white noise and irrepressible grooves. A hint of Twin Peaks even – Julee Cruise Angelo Badalamenti David Lynch. Dark heart within the sweet melody. Perfect. A cover of Some velvet morning by Lee and Nancy putting the seal on impeccable taste. A great show. Nudy Boy Nature on support. That’s Jim Christie who is the drummer with Elaine Malone and The Bonk. Among other things. Plus friends. Beach Boys. Garage rock. Jazz. In phase. Out of phase. Rhythms. All in all. We like that a lot. Pyrrhic by Elaine Malone inertia by Nudy Boy Nature

The latest show from Teach Damhsa . Creators of the incomparable Swan Lake/Loch na hEala . Michael Keegan-Dolan and Rachel Poirier on stage. A memoir of sorts. Monologue. Life story through music and movement. References to Stop Making Sense. (Ghetto blaster. Check. Set assembled onstage. Check.) New romantics. Irish discos. English dancehall. Ballet. Culminating in a life-affirming climax to Ravel’s Bolero. Some of which was falling as much as it was dancing. Beautiful. And inspiring.

Sounds from a Safe Harbour Festival . Readings by the author with live musical backing onstage. Feist was involved. In a baseball cap. Elaine Howley . Others. It amounted to an intriguing radio drama before your ears. Elaine Howley the highlight for me. Brilliant ambient soundtrack undercutting the hilarious but unsettling text. The Distance Between Heart And Mouth by Elaine Howley

Friday Trek to campsite. Find bearings. Admire grounds. Time for Lankum in the tent. Crowd love it. Sound is great but I am largely unmoved. See Chapter 9. That night the rain. Mud skiing. The Kraken Bar in the woods. Because it had a roof. And rum. Saturday The sun comes back out. Still ample mud for thigh workouts. Glasshouse play Joni Mitchell on the bandstand. Hearing Canada in the sunshine here is one of those perfect festival/life moments. One of the singers is Rachael Lavelle . More on her later in this series. Ringo Bingo in the kids area. A welcome diversion. Also clean toilets. Lisa O’Neill on the main stage. I’ve been agnostic but she is great here. Including a rousing cover of Black boys on mopeds by Sinéad O’Connor. Black Country New Road in the tent. Very interesting chamber/prog pop vibe. Your man right of stage immediately endears himself to me by announcing he’s had Beamish for the first time the day before – at a Guinness-sponsored fe

RF solo. With acoustic guitar. And many bottles of water. Older. Less hair. But still with some moves. Well cut suit. And the pout is intact. When I was growing up I had four brothers. David (Bowie). Lou (Reed). David (Byrne). And Tom (Verlaine). A fine set of siblings. Surfing magazines. With the crowd singing the da-das. The crowd singing along to every song. Let me imagine you. His most streamed song. The announcement of the guitar solo. The sublime melody of Dive for your memory that would cut you in two. We may not see him live again. We will never see his like again. The Candle And The Flame by Robert Forster Songs to Play by Robert Forster

More Quarter . Asked and given. In The Nest which is the outdoor section of Coughlans and I could hear the tunes on the way down High Street in the afternoon. Belfast 4-piece. Pleasingly stoner vibe. Major Pavement buzz. Twin guitar attack/glorious jangle. Also featuring nice organ when it decided to work. Some psych wig out action. Sublime. Plus the singer has a lovely falsetto. Occasionally. I already loved Tears in Costa. Hearing it live made my day. Thanks for coming south folks. Listening Face played first. Dan Breen and friends. Dan is one of the best singers I know. Like, a belter. They made an excellent noise. Plus they enjoyed themselves. As did all of us. Thanks Quarter. The Dust Has Come To Stay by Junk Drawer

Quarter Festival . Used to be known as Quarter Block Party . QBP . Same great shit. Different name. Ana Palindrome are a 3-piece. Violin/guitar. Bass. Synths. Experimental pop music you could dance to. More about them later in this series. They sounded and looked great against the chapel’s stained glass windows. Muireann Levis was on support. She did great things with a laptop and a few other gizmos. Intriguing sound design. Another win for QBP.

Cork Midsummer Festival. An opera. In theory. Like Bjork might have imagined. Set on a beach. We are on a balcony looking down on a patch of sand. Where people in their togs are lying on towels. Playing ball games. Reading. Having picnics. Walking the dog. And singing. Overhead infernal lights shine down to indicate blazing sun. The songs centre on foreign travel. Airports. Resorts. Climate change. Sung in conventional opera style. But conversational. And against a cosmic electronic soundtrack. It floated and drifted. The singers changed for each song in a continuous ambient flow. Moments of communal voices singing without harmony and lifting the heart. By the end we were sweating under the lights. And contemplating the beauty and brutality of the human universe. They call it apocalypse in a pastel colour palette. A full blown masterpiece of intrigue and emotion this event.

The opening piano riff of Double summer. And I am in tears. For the 1990s. For my wasted/wonderful youth. For my 24 year old self. Regret and joy and yearning. For something. But that melody. That chorus. Gives me strength and hope. Here goes double summer. Sharing with one another. There was also Heavenly Pop Hit. My leather jacket. Male monster from the id. Monolith. You’re immortal. In the latter the bass player even played trumpet with one hand and bass with the other which was memorable in itself. But mostly thank fuck for Martin Phillipps .

Cans of Kinnegar. Free with ticket. One. Tubes of light. People in their 40s and 50s. Quadrophonic speaker set up. Band at the centre. Audience arranged around. They arrive one by one with an orange fluorescent bulb each. Placed on the floor. Muted liquid light. And begin. Despite sitting about 10 yeards from Paul Ruxton his singing is barely audible. The band sounds lovely. I get up and move to a different spot behind Maurice (shoes off, drums). The sound is perfect here. The sweet spot in this Quadrophenia. Hilary Bow and Justin Grounds join the party. Hilary’s voice is sublime. A majestic counterpoint to the twin male baritones of Cormac and Paul. Justin adds violin and clarinet to wonderful effect. Something of the feel of an installation to the whole affair. Of leaving the space and walking back in at a different moment in the time-space-sound continuum. Particularly at the finish as Hilary and Justin are illuminated in a distant window, the re

All the D4 types slumming it on Camden Street in the sunshine with bottles of rosé. Anseo a sweet oasis before the show. Venue rammed. P and me opt for the more spacious balcony. Good choice other than the one langer trying to create a moshpit. Richard is awesome. Just him and his red electric guitar. The song about his nephew playing a football match. The one about a fox. The one about struggling with anxiety and taking up jogging. The one from Peasant . The staggering fingerpicking but then sometimes the unexpected power chords that would remind you of Bill Bailey stand up comedy and make it sound a bit like heavy metal. Plus his voice is amazing. Reaching for the stars and leaving everything on stage. Every cell of his body engaged and invested in this. In a word moving. Everything Lankum were not. I bump into Tadhg again and he agrees with me on this. About the emotional connection. Myles Manley and band played first. They played a great

It’s hard to argue with a thousand screaming punters. But I will. Something lacking in among the genuinely wondrous drones. Something like a connection. Something strange between the four members on stage. Estranged maybe. So I’m swimming against the tide but not for me this one. Even given Radie Peat’s great and soulful voice. Not moving. False Lankum by Lankum

The band is so groovy. Woah oh oh oh... Danceable. Even some sublime Beach Boys moments. A ferocious band. Fierce. And funny. And so fuckin groovy. Best band in Ireland. I met Tadhg at Lankum the following night and he agreed. Maija Sofia also intriguing. Songs about menstrual blood & Saint Sebastian. Theremin. Beautiful bass playing. Solamh on drums. A distinctive voice. Waltzes. A swirl of magical keys. Greater Than Or Equal To The Bonk by The Bonk True Love by Maija Sofia

Hot pants. Crack band. Once again. All in white. White dungarees on the drummer. White vest on the guitarist. White beret on the bass player. White shorts on the keyboard player. Eurovision fever. She whipped off her skirt like Buck’s Fizz. Hot pants underneath. Sparkly. She was a generous performer, M said. Welcoming. Accessible. These words also. The unbeatable melodies. The belter of a voice. The laugh out loud moments. The band dancing off the stage to a disco soundtrack after the encore. Cowboy hats everywhere. Distinctly good vibes. She should and will be huge. * Junior Brother played support. A legend in his own right. And also came out on stage with CMAT . Great chemistry between those two and I look forward to their future Late Late Show appearance together.

I was brought along on a free by A. Never a particular fan. But I learned something tonight. Pete was bloated in a Waterford GAA jersey under a suit jacket. Immediately cool. The trademark pork pie hat. Up the Déise. Acoustic guitar. There ensued crowd singalongs. 3 or 400 millenials singing the words. With feeling. They were tunes with stamina. And soul. Good on ya Pete.

Punk funk are the words. Wonderful sparse drum beats with offbeat clicks and rimshot. Sympathetic creative bass playing. Songs like Asking for it. Bored of men. Period sex. Nice guys. State of the nation monologues. Looking like they belong up there but still having a laugh in the process. Plus a very cool comment about the (excellent) support band I Dreamed I Dream . 9 years ago when we started a band like that wouldn’t have existed Attachment Styles by M(h)aol Why Say A Lot? by I Dreamed I Dream

A wonderful strangeness surrounds Susanna . The long flowing white gown. The elaborate eye make up. The choice of Baudelaire . Songs of sex and death. A voice like a bell. And perfect in an 18th century church. Baroque. Funnily enough life affirming in the end.

Three nights running. Dan Walsh was back in the game following his marathon Year of the Dan in 2022. This time a solo Fixity . No drums this time. One man and his flute. With drum machine. Samples. A mixing desk. Effects. He also sang. It was wonderful drifty kosmische and what’s more you could dance to it. Dan the headtheball had another show later. The Tan Jackets in Coughlans . He played bass in that one and sang primal rock n roll. Grand for a Saturday. FIXITY by Dan Walsh

The next night John Douglas was in Cork. Coughlans . The man with a string of classics behind him with the Trashcan Sinatras . The sleeping policeman. Weightlifting. The neighbour’s place. So many. These he played. I felt like I could die happy after hearing Weightlifting again. In that room. The weight of the melody. Started the gig with Walk on by in tribute to Burt Bacharach. Classy touch. He also found space for a Prefab Sprout number. We let the stars go. Impeccable taste. I spoke to him after and mentioned Victoria Station 1999. The I HATE MUSIC t-shirt. He had a chuckle. What his songs mean to me. His band. There was a gravity about him. But holy fuck the songs. Weightlifting by Trashcan Sinatras

I did this last year. I'm doing it again this year. Live shows of the year and my thoughts on them. It helps me make sense of it all. I hope you enjoy. x *********** February was Marina Allen first. Aircoach. Burger. Beer. I spoke to her before the gig and recorded the conversation . Lovely person. The California-ness of her. Considered. Balanced. Thoughtful. Then into hardcore punk as a teenager. And Meredith Monk. I bought her a Moretti. Upstairs at The Workman’s Club where they queued at the bar in a straight line. Me and P went to the show. Her wonderful voice. Clear as water. Her primary instrument. Kacey Johansing played too. It was one of the moments of the year to hear The hiding from that album. The album of 2018 that went all over west Cork and Kerry. I slept on the bus home. It was a good roadtrip. Centrifics by Marina Allen The Hiding by Kacey Johansing