Rock Band

Gradually they teamed up in each others places and played saplings of tracks to each other. Conversations about how their lives had changed, but how the faint pulse of music was still beating within their hearts took place. Dermot, it turned out had written 10 new songs. He had done some basic recordings of some of these, and played them to Noel. Noel in the meantime had been working steadily in sound engineering and production. They decided to record one or two of them, and then the spark was lit. Well in hindsight it wasn't even a spark. It was more like lighting a long trail of fusewire that disappeared underground sometimes, got lost in the undergrowth and then re-appeared somewhere else. They weren't even sure if it would carry its flame to the cannon, if indeed there was even a cannon somewhere.

What about an album?

After all why not?

They now possessed all the tools necessary to take their destiny into their own hands. In the 10 years that had passed, the recording process had changed from the expensive "lock-in" (an overnight process in a recording studio where whatever you had done by sun-up was what you walked away with), to one where the writing process and the recording process had become fused together. Whereas previously, they had to write then rehearse, then record what they had rehearsed, now they could take the germ of something, record it, re-write it and again re-record it and let it go somewhere new - a far more creative process.

Dermot would turn up at Noel's place after work on Thursday evenings. Noel would eat dinner at the sound desk. Between system re-boots Dermot would scan Noel's bookshelf. He read Cynthia Lennon's biography of John Lennon, then Brendan McWilliams' book about where all the money had gone. Then so many other books. They'd work together through the evening until 12.30 or so when it would be time to go home and get up for work next morning. Winter turned to Spring, Spring to Summer. Holidays and work commitments delayed the process. Summer turned to Autumn. Autumn to (you get the picture), and still they weren't finished. Another year began and they seemed trapped in that 80:20 rule, that final 20% of completion seeming always beyond reach.

Niall, former guitarist with Northlight Razorblade, and gifted photographer, took some publicity photos and a music video of Northlight. They went down to the Bull wall in Dublin bay one spring morning and shot some stuff. Niall was asked to contribute to the album but felt that the guitar parts were too fully developed by that time for him to make any meaningful contribution. Dermot decided that he would ask him again, when the album was finished (if it was ever finished) to play live with them.

They did some gigs that Yvonne (former band member) had arranged with her writer's group. These helped them to see that the fusewire had re-surfaced, and the flame hadn't been extinguished during it's time underground. They played to backing tracks. They realised they needed that guitar player. And of-course a drummer.

But who?

Now, drummers and us... Northlight Razorblade had many drummers in their time, all of them gifted people, and some of them fictitious (Trevor?). It took such a long time though to get a new drummer up to speed because of the varying time signatures in many of the songs. Northlight were never a four-to-the-floor type of band. Some songs were loud and fast, some tender and slow. Some went from 4/4 to 3/4 after x amount of bars. Quite a lot of them actually sped up during the course of the song (intentionally). John, former drummer with Northlight Razorblade had been the ideal drummer, not only because of his ability but because of his sympathique nature. Ask any band, and they'll all say, that beyond a certain base level of talent, what's really important is that the band members are of like minds. Particularly true of bands doing their own material, as opposed to wedding bands / cover bands who get paid for what they do. Original bands operate in a mirror image world where they in fact have to pay to play in the early days, often incurring losses, and playing to five or six people. At times like that you really need everyone on the same page.

And then the fusewire re-appeared again, still burning but this time with a brighter flame.

The odd text message would appear about John coming back to the country. YouTube links of the songs were sent. Carrier pigeons crossed continents, hemispheres even. Diplomats were charged with getting background talks together. Stays in rehab were organsied (that bit's a joke, No-one was in rehab), and gradually a meeting was held in a secret Dublin location (another exageration, it was Hogan's) where the four swore an oath of allegiance and became blood brothers once again (true). Both Niall and John were asked the same night to come back to the band.

And they both said yes.

Their mission?

To change the face or Music forever. To errect those temples that many had foretold would come about. To renew the cause that some had considered hopeless. To fly in the face of cynicism and consumerist pop.

But mostly, just to do something that came naturally to them all. Finally free from any hope of commercial success, they were liberated to simply do what they could do. A large part of their lives had been given over to music, and why not honour that by simply playing. Because they could. And because they were good.