Joe Philpott of Cork band Rubyhorse: 'We got to do everything a rock band would dream of'

Guitarist Joe Philpott tells Richard Fitzpatrick the rollercoaster story of Cork band Rubyhorse

Mon, 17 Nov, 2025 - 21:00

Joe Philpott went to secondary school at Coláiste an Spioraid Naoimh in Bishopstown, Cork in the late 1980s. When he told his career guidance counsellor that his ambition after school was to make a go of it in a band, he got some pointed advice: “Keep dreaming, kid. Just don’t drag anyone else down with you!”

Philpott took no notice of his teacher’s scorn. With his band, Rubyhorse, which was cobbled together with schoolmates from Spioraid Naoimh in 1986, he went to the moon and back, a rollercoaster story which he captures in his memoir, All Roads Lead to Where You Are: From Bishopstown to The Beatles.

Rubyhorse consisted of Philpott (guitarist), Decky Lucey (bass), Gordon Ashe (drums), Owen Fegan (keyboards) and Dave Farrell (lead singer). They were 14 years of age when the band formed. By 16, they were getting gigs in Sir Henry’s, booked by Tony O’Donoghue (years before he became RTÉ’s television soccer correspondent). They’d arrive at the venue in their school uniforms to do the soundcheck, then change into paisley shirts bought from nearby vintage clothes shop Red Square.

After years playing on the Irish circuit, Rubyhorse jumped on a plane for Boston in January 1997 – with £1,000 in the band’s account – intent on making it big or failing spectacularly. Within a couple of months, the band landed what turned into a 62-week residency at The Burren, an Irish bar in the heart of Davis Square. There were queues outside to get into The Burren gigs.

Seymour Stein, the legendary president of Sire Records and the man who signed Madonna, The Ramones, The Smiths, amongst others, dropped in one night, arriving by limo, to see what all the commotion was about. The world’s top record labels circled, looking to hook the band for their breakout album.

In March 1998, the band signed with Jimmy Iovine at Interscope, whose stable included Dr Dre, Nine Inch Nails and Eminem. For their first meeting with Iovine in Los Angeles, the band got rear-ended at a junction, which kept Iovine waiting for 40 minutes. He wasn’t impressed, especially because they smelt “like a brewery”.

Steve Ralbovsky, a colleague of Iovine’s, tried to excuse them: “They like their few drinks. Besides, at least they don’t bring their own smoke machine into meetings like some of your other artists.”

“Amazing things were happening to us all the time,” says Philpott. “I remember there was a green phone in the apartment. I just waited for it to ring because it was going to be something that you could only dream of. It was going to be, say, Jimmy Iovine on the phone saying. ‘There's a plane waiting for you at Logan Airport. We'll see you in LA tonight.’

“There was this feeling where your heart was going to burst because it couldn't get any better. You’d wake up scratching your head the odd time. Particularly, if you went to places like Vegas or New Orleans, living people's dreams in your ordinary life, a bunch of lads going for it. Everywhere you went, you were the party. You arrive at a venue. Suddenly, there's 500 people there and they all want to hang out with you and take you to this place and that place. You go on to the next town and do it again. It was non-stop.”

In late 1999, Rubyhorse’s manager, Jeff Kramer, picked up one of his other artists, George Harrison, at the airport in LA. He put on a studio tape of a Rubyhorse track, Punchdrunk, in the car. It was music to Harrison’s ears. He went back to the UK and couldn’t get the track out of his ears. One night whistling the melody he paused and asked himself: “What is that? That’s the Irish kids. I better do something with that.”

And so, in December 1999, Harrison went into London’s Friar Park Studio and laid down his inimitable slide guitar to be threaded into the band’s song.

“The Beatles are omnipresent in my life, from being a child hearing my parents listening to them,” says Philpott. “They were the go-to blueprint for how it's done, but out of reach. Next thing we have George saying, ‘I'd love to play on this.’ Hearing his part back on Punchdrunk for the first time was mad. When you hear some guitar players on the radio, it's few of them that you recognise after two notes. Maybe Mark Knopfler, The Edge and George, whose slide style is unique. Still when I think about it, I go, how the hell did that happen?”

Rubyhorse’s maiden record with Interscope hit a wall, “a million-dollar mistake”. The band brushed themselves down. In 2002, their single, Sparkle, reached No 17 in the Billboard charts. They were invited onto late night talk shows with Conon O’Brien and David Letterman. They supported Culture Club on tour. R.E.M. asked them to do support for a gig in Dublin. They partied with Def Leppard. But then in 2004 – a year after their keyboardist had left the band – and just as they’d released possibly their best album, tellingly entitled Goodbye to All That, Rubyhorse called it a day.

“On paper, it made sense for us to keep going because there were things coming down the tracks,” says Philpott. “The songs were getting better, we were getting better, but our hearts were broken. We were out of gas. We couldn't go another round. We were in our early 30s. Relationships were suffering. It’s a natural feeling at that age to question everything. It was the right decision. No regrets. We got to do everything a rock band would dream of – toured all over America, got on the big talk shows, had a Top 20 song, played with a Beatle.”

Late Show with David Letterman

Not many Irish people have been guests on the iconic Late Show with David Letterman. They include Richard Harris, U2 and the Cranberries, amongst a handful of others. The Cork band Rubyhorse joined that select group in 2002 when they performed their hit single Sparkle at the legendary Ed Sullivan Theater, on the same stage where the Beatles made their American TV debut in 1964.

“Everything about Letterman was high stakes New York,” writes Joe Philpott in All Roads Lead to Where You Are.

“The show was taped in real time like a Broadway production. One take, no retakes, no safety net. Letterman himself was notoriously aloof, going through some personal issues at the time, including a stalker situation at his home.

“Rehearsal was rigid. A stand-in walked through the script. We were briefed on every detail. Do not engage with David. If he likes you, he will come over. The theatre was freezing, air conditioning cranked up to prevent him from sweating under the lights.

“We played great. Letterman loved it. After the performance, he broke protocol, walked over, shook hands and asked what we were doing for Christmas. It was July. Deck [Lucey, bass player and songwriter], deadpan, answered: “Going to your house.”

“Letterman, famously paranoid and private, looked genuinely startled. Hilarious.”