Truthfully, it wasn't really the music, but the warmth and exuberation that our instructor put into it that made playing guitar... special. I was taught by Roy O' Driscoll, a classic bohemian, a friend, and amazingly gifted musician, bass player and singer with the late, great Orange Fettishes - the best thing never to have made it out of Cork... UPDATE! They're back together! Check them out on myspace at www.myspace.com/orangefettishes

In 1997 I teamed up with Rob Power, formerly frontman of grunge band "Luster" in Bray, Co. Wicklow. After the arguous drummer search that every aspiring band in Ireland will be very familiar with, we finally snogged Brian Coffey. Sure, he wasn't a drummer, but... actually, he never got lessons. Which led to the next incarnation, with Moose, drummer for local metal band "Pour." Unfortunately his commitments to other bands led to us having to find a more permanent solution, which came in the form of Brian Coffey. Brian wasn't a drummer either, but a damn handsome man, and a few months of lessons later we were on the trolley. recruited Steven Fahey on drums. With this line-up, we recorded our first demo at age sixteen on a meditation audio casette using one of my dad's mixing desks, which we had absolutely no idea how to use. The result was the pricelessly horrendous "Goatskin Sessions," which reflected the sum of its parts with absolute eliquence. The name of the demo came from the fact that Steven didn't have a drum kit, so percussion was limited entirely to my sister Siobhan's toy goatskin drum.

Steven wasn't interested in purusing his drumming acumen in a more forceful manner (read: he didn't get lessons), which led to his replacement by Moose of the metal band Pour. Moose was a very polished drummer, but his commitments to other bands at the time ultimately made it impossible for us to move forward, so he in turn left and in came Brian Coffey. Now Brian, much like Steven before him, wasn't actually a drummer; however, his brother had a kit, meaning he had access to his instrument, which immediately bounced him ahead of about a dozen places of our former drummers. A few months of lessons later, we were ready to rock. In 1998, the band had its best year and played its best shows, unquestionably capped off by a gig for IMRO (Irish Musical Rights Organization). We were terribly impressed by all the smoke, big speakers and knowledgable engineers, not to mention the flickering lights which threw me totally off the fret board (that's why I hit all those bum notes...). In all seriousness, it was a wonderful show to play, and Rob's hawking of our most recent three-track demo in Sun Studios led to a version of Bone Marrow where the audience sang along, an awesome first.

Shortly after the IMRO gig, however, the band fell (further) into ill-repute. With the Leaving Cert around the corner, and my teenage angst at an all-time raging high, tensions, worries and paranoia broke the band apart. Rob and Brian went on to work together in several incarnations, and still exist today as Better Than Ed. I don't know about Ed, but they're very, very good, and their official website is well worth visiting for a sample of their style and music.

No, I don't know it. I've been there, though, it's VERY good.

I went on musical hiatus from this point. My journalism career took off, as within months I was working for H&S Media. I travelled throughout North America for the next two years, writing magazines and online features, always keeping a guitar in tow. It wasn't until almost three years later, Christmas of 2000, that I began toying with the idea of playing in a band again. Brendan Munroe, who had been a friend for several years and hands-down one of the most natural musicians I'd ever been in the presence of, began playing some of my songs with me. His musical poise and natural ability opened me up to allowing other people to contribute to my songs for the first time. In the fall of 2001, Romance Is Dead was born in proper. Brendan and I hooked up with drummer Eugene Hogan from Dripsey, Co. Cork, and played our first gig at the Dew Drop Inn near the town. Eugene, much like Brendan, was both a natural musician and a wonderfully giving friend, which made the show real fun to do. Brendan had long made plans to go to Australia for a year with friends, so he soon took off, leaving Eugene and I to find a replacement. We never did manage it; not in Cork, nor in Seattle, where we went in the Summer of 2002. Many came, but all went. And right before Brendan made it back to Ireland that fall, Eugene left the band to pursue college. Foiled again!

It was at this point that I took a "now or never" approach towards the business I was always so hot and cold on. I signed up to a one-year course on music and the music industry at St. Stephen's college in Cork. It was a great challenge and with great results; the drop-out rate was steep (50%), but the other half stuck it out, myself among them. During my time with the course I met up with several talented individuals and groups, such as Killarney group Ten Past Seven, and played The Lobby for the first time. The Lobby, one of the most intimate and revered venues in Cork City, lies on the quay opposite City Hall; it had been the first and last place I saw the Orange Fettishes play, and the opportunity to walk in my mentor's footsteps was an unforgettable high that I will be eternally grateful for.

UPDATE: The Lobby has closed down. Bastards. Nothing is sacred.

2002 wrapped up with a major high-brow gig in the Triskel Arts Center, showcasing the best talent from the last two years of the course. Having fulfilled the necessary quota of live musical performances, I requested the opportunity to present the show as opposed to perform at it. The facilty were kind enough to indulge me, and I took the opportunity with the utmost of sincerity. The show was a great success, and on that night I perhaps realized once and for all that I have a love of performing and relating to groups of people deeper than music itself. The warmth and appreciation that my classmates and lecturers extended towards my efforts that night is something I will never forget.

Meanwhile, Brendan and I had been travelling between Cork and Dublin on alternating weekends to continue work on the Romance Is Dead project. When the St. Stephen's course ended in May 2003, I immediately moved up to the Dublin area to indulge our work full time. We engaged in a schedule of gigging three to four times a week, while during daytime hours I furiously promoted the band as manager, booker and promoter.

Fine... they're all the same thing. But I worked really, really hard, okay?

We began to see signs of the work paying off, as opportunities to perform live on bigger and bigger radio stations came our way, and our name started popping up regularly in Hotpress, the most established music magazine in the country. The two-piece became three once more in August when drummer Bob O' Halloran joined the band, and Brendan left work soon after to join me in dedicating his efforts to the band full-time. That fall, we kicked it up another gear, working with producer Philip Magee to create our sophomore album, "Addicted to Emma," at Sun Studios in Dublin. The launch was a raging success, as we packed the prestigous Sugarclub venue in Dublin City Center, and received unconditional praise from the media reps in attendance. For the Ku De Gras, the album was launched in Tower Records in November with a live in-store appearance, followed by a national tour in December.

After the tour, I decided it was time to leave music.

Strange timing, perhaps; but the tour provided a litmus test for what a future on the road would be like. The stress of the band travelling together, combined with other factors, made it clear to me that this wouldn't work in the long run. As much as I loved my band mates as friends, having to operate in a business relationship with heavy financial burdens is incredibly stressful. It takes a very unique kind of people and a unique kind of relationship to make it happen. It just wasn't in the cards for us. Perhaps another three guys on another day would have been positioned correctly, but we were not, and I didn't have the mental energy to start again.

Music has, and will continue to be, an important part of my life; and now, more than ever, I have the opportunity to enjoy it in different ways. While the band's life as a full-time group may have ended, I will continue to enjoy working with all of those I have done so in the past, and more to come in the future, and I will always look fondly and appreciatively upon what we accomplished during our time in the business.

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