The Day We Just Played

It’s hard to believe it’s nearly three years since we released What Will We Be. We were very proud of that record—years of writing, followed by two more in the studio. Those first couple of years were where most of the inspiration lived, and in many ways they were the most fulfilling. Sometimes when you carry an idea around for a long time, living with it in demos and live performances, what finally comes out in the studio—after months of edits, overdubs, and coming and going—doesn’t quite match what you had imagined. A long recording process can also pull you far away from the moment that first inspired the song. The music can suffer for it.

Despite all that, the album did well. A few songs were played on BBC and RTÉ, and we had great support from regional and local radio. We even made it onto the ballot for Best Folk Album at the Grammys. I’m still not entirely sure what that means, but I think it means we were considered for nomination! When something goes well—or seems to—it can be difficult to know how to move forward, especially if you lose a bit of momentum between albums and tours. That’s usually when it’s time to get back to writing. That’s always been my favourite part of being a musician anyway.

Rediscovering the Fun of Recording

Earlier this year, we dipped our toes into live recording with a session for “Homegrown Potatoes” and “Lost on the Wander.” It was fun—proper fun—and I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a recording session so much. I think that joy made its way into the music. Both songs ended up getting radio play on RTÉ, the BBC, and plenty of regional Irish stations. Result!

That small success gave us the push we needed.

A Big Day in Paddy Jordan’s Studio

Last Saturday, myself, Joycey, Neil Fitzgibbon (fiddle), Jim Higgins (percussion), and Sam Wright (double bass) headed to Paddy Jordan’s studio to attempt something ambitious: nine songs in one day. One of them even had its final edit only the night before.

We arrived around 9:30am (give or take) and eased into things with “Thistledown Sally.” This clip ended up being the only footage of the whole day. Pity but maybe for the best.

We got two more songs down—“Button Down Blues” and “The Last Hotel”—before a bloody power cut. Luckily Paddy had a backup, so nothing was lost. By the end of the day we’d done four or five takes of each of the eight tracks and even threw in a cover for the hell of it.

Everyone had places to be, so there wasn’t much listening back. Jim did have time to throw on a few extra bits of percussion, and we all nodded along to this brilliant groove in the headphones. I was trying my best not to smile my head off.

Leaving the Studio on a High

Five minutes later I was in the car heading to Joe Cunniffe in Glenamaddy to pick up a PA that had been in for repair, and then straight on to a pub gig in Ennis. Honestly, I could have driven anywhere—I was that delighted.

A little worried too, because without listening back properly, I had no idea how everything sat. Was the singing in tune? Were the takes as good as we thought? But under the worry was this strong feeling that we’d made something really special on Saturday.

We just played. And it was good.