Despite an endless pool of talent and outlets covering such talent, there are limited opportunities here. While the advent of the internet has helped tremendously, bands still need to get in front of an audience to build support. This means having to get the ferry constantly to tour England, Scotland and Wales if you want to get to a certain level of notoriety. Even the most remarkable of acts have fallen foul of being constrained in this country’s limited gig circuit.
The Sons of Robert Mitchum were one such band.
♫♫♫♫
Beginning around 2009, the Sons were the brainchild of Morgan Moore (born and raised in South Africa but whose parents were originally from NI), Jack Forgie (ex-Ruefrex) and drummer Marcin Sobzcak. Although trumpet player Thomas Behringer was a quick addition to the ranks, they went through a few bassists before landing on Andrew Thompson.
Being gentleman of a certain vintage and with an internationalist membership, they were destined to stand out in the NI music scene. It did help that their music was unlike anything else was producing at the time and that it stands tall well over a decade later.
‘Build My Gallows High’ is a remarkable opener. Sobzcak’s china cymbals set a foreboding mood and Moore’s refrain of “build my gallows high/don’t leave me hanging” manages to be both amusing and troublesome. When the whole band kicks in, the overall effect is a cross between Morricone style spaghetti western music and Scott Walker defiant lament. It’s especially notable for just how much a spectacle is being made of the narrator’s plight whose only act of defiance in this zoo is to yell.
I’ve said in the past that ‘Soviet Hotel Dressing Gown’ is the finest song to have emerged from Ireland in the last 20 years and I stand by that claim 100%. A slow burning atmospheric number that sounds like Mark Lanegan if he had been in Weimar Germany, it paints a mysterious portrait of a woman who doesn’t like questions but loves Leonard Cohen. Magical.
‘A Song for Ella’ could very well be about the same woman as the narrator is struck by her beauty and her world, but this time the music is much more spacey and wistful, hinting at intense longing that is ultimately doomed. While lacking the coolness of ‘Soviet Hotel…’ and the darkness of ‘Build My Gallows High’, the song adds a romantic mood to the record and shows that there is a beating heart behind the cynical mouth.
I’ve said in the past that ‘Soviet Hotel Dressing Gown’ is the finest song to have emerged from Ireland in the last 20 years and I stand by that claim 100%. A slow burning atmospheric number that sounds like Mark Lanegan if he had been in Weimar Germany, it paints a mysterious portrait of a woman who doesn’t like questions but loves Leonard Cohen. Magical.
‘A Song for Ella’ could very well be about the same woman as the narrator is struck by her beauty and her world, but this time the music is much more spacey and wistful, hinting at intense longing that is ultimately doomed. While lacking the coolness of ‘Soviet Hotel…’ and the darkness of ‘Build My Gallows High’, the song adds a romantic mood to the record and shows that there is a beating heart behind the cynical mouth.
We’re back in familiar terrain with ‘Down by Law’ which recounts how a night on the lash ended up with six months in the cell. Behringer’s trumpet work really gives this song a dirty, jazzy edge a la Gallon Drunk that makes it seem the song is set in some illicit New Orleans prison cell. Worth it for the line “I’ve got the voice of Morgan Freeman narrating every move.”
‘David Contemplated’ is glorious. Narrating the story of a serial killer, the song is a perfect mesh of post-punk, jazz and beatnik sensibility. Tom Waits could sing this, and no-one would think it was a cover. Moore’s delivery of the lines “She took a ride with the killer inside/No longer will the cagebird sing” thrills even the most apathetic of listeners.
The heaviest song on here (musically and thematically), ‘Darwin’s Nightmare’ is a menacing number about an army invading a town and committing war crimes akin to My Lai. This is where Forgie shines as his guitar lines rumble along (akin to an incoming tank) and the main riff feels like bombs going off. The power and righteous anger on display here is second to none.
Closing the record is the instrumental ’28 Amelie’s Later’ (a neat mesh of 28 Days Later and Amelie). Originally composed for a student short film, it’s akin to The Stranglers ‘Golden Brown’ if it was set in post-apocalyptic Paris. Rich in pathos, atmosphere and a little bit romantic at the same time. It’s an odd finish but one that works surprisingly well.
♫♫♫♫
Although released in 2015, the album is a combination of two previously released EPs from 2010 and 2011. Amazing to think that the record flows so well, but there was a reason for such a move.
Despite building up a substantial name for themselves in Ireland and even touring Poland (leading to them being featured on Polish TV), they suffered a blow when Forgie quit in 2013 (not long after a Record Store Day set I saw them play in Dragon Records) and while they carried on with James Reid, it was never the same. Reid is a brilliant guitar player, but he was more of a Clapton/Beck style guitarist (which never suited the Sons at all). He left and the band went quiet.
There is another album of recorded material that has yet to be released (as I have heard a few numbers from them) but with the band’s last gig being 2019, it seems the chances of seeing them released (as well as new gigs) are slim.
A crying shame as this music stands up. Often, unsigned local music ends up being reduced to an anecdote as part of beer-soaked memories of misspent youth. But the Sons music can’t, as they stood apart from the scene, created their own thing and we are much richer for that.
Pay homage to the masters.
⏩ Christopher Owens was a reviewer for Metal Ireland and finds time to study the history and inherent contradictions of Ireland. He is currently the TPQ Friday columnist.
No comments