A TELEPHONE conversation with Villagers’ Conor O’Brien is quite something.
As he strolls through London’s Highgate answering my questions, he can’t help but react to the bustling city around him.
One moment, he is talking about the recent release of his debut album, Becoming A Jackal, the next, he is startled by what he describes as a “scary, evil squirrel”.
Such rambling thoughts are typical of this musician who has produced an album of introspective and intriguing music. As he says himself: “Everyone’s got a crazy universe inside their heads. I just put it into songs.”
His particular craziness seems to be striking a chord with fans. Last year, The Irish Times placed Villagers at number six in a list of The 50 Best Irish Acts Right Now while many critics have compared his music with the likes of Leonard Cohen, Elliott Smith, Neil Young and Bright Eyes.
So, who is Conor O’Brien and where does his music come from? “I’ve been interested in music since I was very young,” he answers. “My parents sent me to piano lessons and I’d listen to my older brother play all sorts of crazy ’60s stuff like Pink Floyd. I was really excited by that sort of music.”
That same older brother introduced him to the guitar, an introduction that was to mark the beginning of Conor’s musical journey. “He showed me how to play a few chords when I was 12 and that was the start of it for me,” he remembers.
“From the moment I picked up the guitar, I was writing songs and soon I was playing music with friends at school.” His school was St. Conleth’s College in Dublin’s Ballsbridge and his friends were Dave Hedderman and Pete Toomey.
“We grew up and got into music together,” says Conor. The trio also become friends with the school janitor who would give them records to listen to.
While attending university, Conor, Dave and Pete decided to form a band together. Other musicians joined and the band eventually developed into The Immediate, an avant-garde rock band that achieved significant success in Ireland, both commercial and critical.
Hopes were high for The Immediate but they decided to break up in April 2007, having only released one album.
“Dave and Pete were interested in other things,” says Conor of the break-up. “They’d got to that stage when you’re in your 20s and deciding what to do with your life. Music involves sacrifices and you have to enjoy it and really want to do it if you’re going to continue. They simply didn’t want to make those sacrifices.”
A less determined individual might have given up at this point but not Conor. He persisted in making music. In fact, the day after the band decided to break up, he started to write new material.
“I was writing frantically,” he recalls now. “There was a sense of fear involved. It was like a relationship ending and writing music was my knee-jerk reaction.” There was also a sense of fear involved in working alone instead of with a group.
As a member of The Immediate, writing had often been a collaborative affair, particularly between Conor and Dave. Although Conor was used to forming ideas on his own, he missed Dave’s contribution. “I wasn’t a stranger to locking myself away in my room,” he says.
“That came naturally to me. But I would write something and because of the strong bond I have with Dave, I would immediately ask myself: ‘what would Dave think?’” Some musicians, having left one band and facing the challenges of a solo career, might decide that the best option would be to form another band. Not Conor.
“I decided I was never again going to collaborate,” he says. “If I did, it would be fake and could only ever be second best. If I couldn’t make it work with those guys, guys I was so close to, I’d have to go it alone.”
This is what he has been doing since. He funded his writing by touring with Cathy Davey’s band and in his spare time he wrote his own music. This has now been released in his debut album, an 11-track collection of poetic lyrics and mesmerising melodies.
The title track — with its lush arrangements, soulful vocals, tenderly emotional lyrics and memorable chorus — is one this particular writer can’t get out of her head. It tells of the dark side of a relationship, of what is taken from you as you give of yourself.
“A lot of what I write is trying to put things that I don’t think are discussed or mentioned in everyday life into songs,” says Conor. “It’s my strange subconscious desires and daydreams.”
He also tries to include what he calls “a bit of magic”. So, as he sings of unmade beds, familiar rooms and staring out windows, he also refers to imagined jackals preying on souls and finding fresh meat to chew.
He hates trying to categorise his own music but when pushed, he laughs and says that “if you’re going to force it out of me, I’d say it was folk-scented soul songs surrounded by epic pop arrangements”.
Whatever it is, it’s a sound that is winning him fans all over the world. Conor has appeared on Later... with Jools Holland. He has toured with Tracy Chapman, Bell X1 and Neil Young. And he is planning to appear at lots of festivals in Britain this summer.
“Some of my gigs will be with a full band,” he says. “Others will have a more pared down band with me and two others and in some I’ll be performing solo.”
The Irish Times’ music critic Jim Carroll saw Villagers perform at last year’s Electric Picnic festival and said it was “a must-see for those who dig ragged pop, eerie folk and heartfelt emotionnal songs and sounds”.
If this sounds like the type of music for you, then you can find out more about Villagers’ concerts and music online at www.myspace.com/villagers