Mick Flannery

I wish I had discovered Mick Flannery a long time ago, so I could've written about him way back when, and have been listening to his music for ages already. As it is, his album White Lies is currently on permanent repeat on anything that plays music in my house. He sounds something like Tom Waits and Bob Dylan, but also like something wonderfully invigorating and beautiful. His voice is gravelly, soulful and deep, his lyrics moving and subtle. Every single song on the album is worth listening to, but Safety Rope and California are particularly striking. They stop you in your tracks and force you to sit down and just listen.
For a man of only twenty-five tender years, who started out as a stone mason, Flannery is ridiculously talented. His voice sounds as though its lived through many centuries and is as sultry and heartrending as can be. He writes all his songs and lyrics himself, and apparently refuses to talk about himself unless it's through his lyrics. Hopefully though, he's had a better time of it than his songs suggest. Although having said that, his voice is perfectly suited to singing about broken hearts and lost girls, with it's dark, mournful and melancholic tone. There are tracks though, where things seem to brighten up and the mood lifts. These songs are just as good, although don't quite reach the monumental, wisened heights of the others.
At the moment, Flannery is just touring around Ireland (as he's a born and bred Irishman, which only seems to add to how brilliant he is), but hopefully he'll be coming over to London very very soon. As absolutely amazing as it is listening to the hard copy of the album, something tells me that Flannery is one of those singer-songwriters who would be completely and utterly astounding to see live.
Safety Rope - Mick Flannery

Deer Tick at the Borderline...this isn't a concert, this isn't a show...this is a party.

Amidst a decidedly odd crowd of people on a wet Tuesday night at Tottenham Court Road's tiny, underground Borderline, Deer Tick's whisky-drenched, grating yet beautiful voices led the onlookers in a somewhat makeshift acoustic rendition of Dirty Dishes. Dennis Michael Ryan laid his eerie harmonies over his fellow bandmembers' haunting, old-before-their-time voices, as the drunken girl at the back enthusiastically began each coming line several seconds before the band themselves did.
This however, was just one brilliant moment in a night that featured for the first time, a live UK performance of Deer Tick's musical genius, with their rustic alt-rock-country songs that tell of sinful cities, pretty girls in pretty cars and angels too dumb to speak, all topped off with John Joseph McCauley III's duck joke.
The range Deer Tick have managed to achieve in their music is outstanding - the rockier, guitar-laden foot stompers are the perfect juxtaposition to the quieter more soulful ballads such as Ashamed. It is safe to say, the crowd loved being given the chance to hear both.
McCauley's slightly awkard yet comic commentary, between songs and swigs of whiskey, added charm and reality to a band that at first sight looks like a slightly ragtag bunch. However, this ragtag bunch produce a sound and a story to both crush and lift your spirits and make sure you have a damn good time in doing so.
Deer Tick fill a much needed gap in the music world, as they manage to combine country & western, rock'n'roll and the all important harmonica - all soaked in Jack Daniels of course - to create a sound, that when heard live, is more epic and exhilarating than about 95% of what else is out there at the moment.
As McCauley bit off his beer-bottle caps and tossed them casually to women in the audience, it was evident that there were those present who wished Deer Tick would come out into the world a little more often, so we could hear their eclectic, rock'n'roll sound more than once every few years, especially when led by McCauley's rare and incredibly special vocal talents. Hopefully they'll be over again in London soon, and hopefully each gig here will grow in stature and intensity, becoming more disorderly, chaotic and magnificent everytime.
Ashamed - Deer Tick

Smith Hill - Deer Tick