Homegrown: Discovering Music / Discovering Dublin Dublin wears its culture proudly. Our streets boast plaques commemorating every Ulyssian step of Leopold Bloom, walls are emblazoned with Maser’s murals, and, at this time of year, we prepare for the annual Culture Night, when the city gets to showcase the best it has to offer.

Dublin wears its culture proudly. Our streets boast plaques commemorating every Ulyssian step of Leopold Bloom, walls are emblazoned with Maser’s murals, and, at this time of year, we prepare for the annual Culture Night, when the city gets to showcase the best it has to offer. For those of us who have migrated from the quieter corners of Ireland to pursue our education in the capital, one of the most exciting prospects of our new home is probably this new deluge of events, exhibitions and art, just waiting to be discovered. Culture is a product of urbanity. That is not to underestimate the wealth of art that emerges from and is inspired by rural landscapes; from Romantic poetry to painting, the silence and solitude of the countryside has provided inspiration for a huge wealth of poetry, music and visual art. Yet it is within an urban context that the machinations that actually produce cultural artefacts, turning them into a reality, take place.

Perhaps this is most evident in the production of music, a process that is inherently collaborative; even the most independent of songwriters still need an audience to sing to, after all. Music requires bands, songwriters, instrumentalists, technicians, producers, venues, and audiences in order to transpire (more often than not, that is.) Your favourite band never came to play in Ballygobackwards because, let’s be fair, about ten people would have turned up, and transport would have been a nightmare. Similarly, you quickly noticed that your band’s crowd always played to the same fifteen faces, because there just weren’t that many more people to see what was going on. (Also, it’s likely that your bass player only ever picked up the instrument after realising there were no bassists in the area. Though this is by no means exclusively a rural problem.)

Dublin’s sheer vast size can be intimidating initially; with a population of over half a million, and an urban landscape that pushes against the county boundaries, it can seem daunting for those not familiar with its streets. Or, perhaps I was just an especially green fresher; I remember being disgusted with the insistences of hardened Dubs that the city was really just a big village when I first made the move. This sprawling monstrosity was several times the size of my native Cork, and absolutely nothing like a village. (Far fewer tourists and Spanish students in villages for one thing.) Yet, retrospectively, I underestimated the communities to be found within the city. In an attempt to scratch the surface of Dublin’s musical underbelly, I picked the brains of a few of the city’s acts; Étáin, Sub Motion, Bicurious, The Fontaines and MUNKY.

“Definitely there’s a sense of community there, the Irish music scene is so small that everyone knows everyone and it’s like a tight knit little family,” agrees singer-songwriter Étáin. If anything, the close community of musicians found in Dublin can go against those trying to break into the industry; “It is more difficult for rural musicians to feel part of that community because the industry is so very Dublin centred, like every Irish industry really.” Étáin has been gigging in Dublin since she was 16, juggling the three-hour commute from Leitrim on weekends with school and studies.

Sean O’Connor, drummer of Sub Motion, similarly notes the sense of community found amongst those gigging in the city. “And not just musicians, there’s a close sense of community among promoters, sound engineers and venue staff as well. It’s a tough industry to try and break into and we all know it, so everyone gives each other a hand when they can.”

Live music continues to be a favourite way for publicans to fill seats, and Dublin is packed full of venues, yet amongst the musicians I chatted to, some seemed to remain firm favourites. The Workman’s Club is beloved by both Bicurious and The Fontaines, upholding its reputation for good tunes (and arguably has one of the nicest smoking areas of this fair city). Whelan’s naturally came up. (“It’s such an iconic venue in the music scene not just in Dublin, but the country,” says Sean.) The International is a good spot for those looking for a quieter vibe, offering singer-songwriters a platform through their open mic nights. Different venues suit different musicians, of course; as Étáin says, “You come across venues every now and then that sit really well with you and you feel like they’re a perfect fit for your music.” As true as this is for the gigging musician, it is equally true, perhaps, for the gig-goer. If the chemistry is good enough to make one night great, it might be more than just the band, and a return visit is worthwhile.

In the twenty-first century, of course one must ask whether online communities, forums and spaces are replacing the city, in terms of function. Access to new music is vastly simpler now than in days gone by (sure, isn’t everyone on Spotify these days), and the existence of online communities that gather together specific identities and subsections of society present value access points for those wishing to target their music to niche areas. Gay, of Bicurious, cites the usual blogs as a means of discovering new Irish music; Goldenplec, Nialler9, The Last Mixed Tape.  Above all, however, word-of-mouth and real life interactions still seem to trump the lure of the online world. Étáin points out that, although social media is important, “Even today it’s still fuelled on word of mouth. It’s still about meeting the right person at the right time who tells you about an event or showcase, and, in a way, it’s nice that there’s still a humanity to what’s fast becoming a very mechanical industry.” Of course, there’s also the joy of coming across a good band live as a support act; “You like their stuff, you have a chat, and you keep in touch with what they do,” Sean says.

Living in the capital introduces the danger of forgetting the rest of the country. Dublin can become an impermeable bubble; for those outside, impossible to break into the scene, and for those already inside, trapped playing the same venues with the same acts. “We love playing in Dublin because it’s where we’re from and where most of our fanbase is, but want to avoid playing there too often,” Bicurious’ Taran says. “No matter how good you are, people will get bored of you if you play the same place week in, week out. That’s why we try and get as many gigs as possible outside Dublin, and that way we can try and get the name out there a bit more.”

Étáin, coming directly from a rural background, has a heightened awareness of the potential divide. “That’s why, even though I’m Dublin based at the moment, I was determined to create every aspect of my upcoming release in Leitrim, from the writing stage to production to the video. I really wanted to bring together East and West because the divide often seems vast but, I think it’s like any art form. Varying environments influencing musicians from either side of the Shannon can be really interesting when brought together.”

 

Étáin’s debut EP, Sacred Renditions, will be released on September 30. Starting in October, she will be playing The International Bar every Sunday night at 9pm.

The Fontaines will be playing Hard Working Class Heroes on Friday, September 29. They will be launching Hurricane Laughter/Winter in The Sun at The Button Factory on Saturday October 7.

Sub Motion will be headlining the rock stage at The Bowery, Rathmines, as part of the Canalaphonic Festival on Saturday September 23.

Sub Motion and MUNKY will be supporting The Hot Sprockets on 3 October at The Bowery as part of Oktoberfest.

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