Tom Dunne: Damn the begrudgers - let's sing up for the unsigned bands
Chris Moyles: no fan of bands before they get signed
Chris Moyles: wash your mouth out with soap. Why not just walk into the middle of an under-11 game and tell the kids none of them are going to make it? Any home truths about Santa you’d like to share? And you part of the magic circle, on radio, the man behind the fader!
The former BBC Radio 1 breakfast show presenter’s declaration this week that “most unsigned bands are crap” didn’t initially offend me. It reminded me instead of a point around 2002 when the advent of the MP3 and very cheap home recording saw a tectonic shift in the amount of music being sent to radio. It was not all fragrant of nature.
I’d become used to arriving to a desk groaning under the weight of demo CDs and albums. Then, the artwork and studio expense always gave you some sense of how serious the bands were.
Not so the inbox. It was bulging but gave scant indication of each act’s resolve. Instead, I noticed several recurring themes: heartfelt odes to lost loved ones, songs they had “never intended to share” and talented children; “I know I’m her dad, but still,” they would say, “I mean, for nine!”
More worrying were the variations on the theme Music from Big Pink. This was an album by The Band, most famous for their work with Bob Dylan, recorded at a house known locally as Big Pink in upstate New York.
The album and its recording have become mythic. They had retired to this remote location to “just see what happens.” They wrote songs, played guitar, and hung out. The resulting album, their debut, was truly incredible.
Why the album turned out to be so great has occupied minds ever since. Was it something in the air? Was it hallowed ground? Or was it a combination of genius songwriter Robbie Robertson with the occasional input of Nobel Prize winner Bob Dylan? I guess we will never know.
Two of its songs, Robertson’s 'The Weight' and Dylan’s 'I Shall be Released', became instant classics. Soon, The Band were gracing the cover of Time magazine.
“They have been to the mountain,” said Time, suggesting that they had somehow communed, during that time in Big Pink, with something beyond this world.
Somehow that album and the onset of cheap recording equipment inspired a slew of lads in Ireland to pack up the da’s car, lay in a few slabs and set up camp in remote cottages in West Cork and Inishbofin. “Bring the instruments, see what happens, no expectations” they would all say.
Oddly enough, almost all these sessions became full length albums and soon almost all of these made their way to my inbox. They never came alone. When they weren’t communing with the god of melody, they were writing sleeve notes. Nothing was left out: names of local pubs, favourite toasties, Leaving Cert results.
So, did I do a Chris Moyles? Did I go on air and say “well you went there expecting nothing to happen and guess what lads: You were right! The Band’s place in history is safe! Keep this album amongst yourselves. Don’t do a vinyl”
No, of course not! I kept schtum. I made encouraging noises on air and played anything I could framing it with words like “promising” and “heartfelt.” It doesn’t take much to encourage and who knows where that encouragement will lead. Then, obviously, I’d play two from Radiohead.
I have, at various times, sat opposite the unsigned talents of Damien Dempsey, Damien Rice, Hozier, Glen Hansard and Gavin James. In the very early days, you could certainly discern talent but the main ingredient they brought to the table was enthusiasm. Who are we, who is anyone, to rain on that?
Unsigned talent is the lifeblood of the music industry. Often the thing that stops that talent getting signed initially is the very thing makes them unique and massive when they are signed.
All the bands on the Kaught on Kampus EP – Mean Features, Nun Attax, Microdisney and Urban Blitz from Cork - were unsigned. But they were encouraged; Elvera Butler got them recorded, Ian Wilson and Dave Fanning got them played on radio. Heartened by this, some of the most unique Irish talents ever, carried on.
The unsigned world is where dreams are dreamed, where new visions of music are imagined and where maverick talents and future Bowies make plans for all tomorrows parties. I know one man who is not invited to that party.
