Halfset's Stephen Shannon

Halfset's Stephen Shannon
2 Mar 2009
ARTIST: 
Halfset

“I’d rather deliver pizzas than work with someone whose music I don’t love,” says Stephen Shannon from behind the control desk at Experimental Audio, the studio built in his Crumlin, South Dublin back garden where, most notably, Adrian Crowley, Crayonsmith, Carly Sings and his own band, the Choice Music Prize nominated Halfset, have recorded some of the finer Irish releases in the space’s two year plus existence. And you can see, as well as hear, why he’s in such demand. Far more welcoming than your average city centre hub, the studio has the instantly professional look as well as the €70,000 bill to prove it’s not just a few amps in a shed - they incidentally live with a 12-year collection of equipment sat floor-to-ceiling under blankets in a room in the house. It seems the perfect place for those 16-18 hour days then?

“I try not to do those so much these days,” Stephen says, later telling us how he prefers to now spend the odd afternoon showing off his two young children to friends and relatives. “But you can just go in and not come out ’til you’re fit to head butt the table. I’ve stopped that because a lot of the people I started off working with aren’t doing it anymore after burning out or going crazy. That or they went deaf (laughs).”

“I’ve definitely done my best work since I was here though. Before that I was hiring studios all over the place and the variation of the sound and quality and just the price of places really prohibited developing a project into something more significant. They were always short sessions limited by time and particularly money but now I have my own place, all my equipment, I know how they sound and can spend three weeks on a project instead of having to do it in four or five days.”

He’s also been bringing out the best in others. We’d be tempted to once more call Adrian Crowley’s sublime 2007 album  Long Distance Swimmer definitive, had we not been treated to a few tracks from its April-due successor. Likewise background teasers from Damien Rice’s cellist Vyvienne long to hushed folk duo Norabelle sound just as encouraging while we ask whether the producer‘s home studio is a dream or a labour of love.

“It is a dream come true and it’s a haven too, it’s a place where I go to relax,” he says. “I started building it and then ran out of cash, then got some more cash from work to put the roof on it (laughs) and it just went on forever. Eventually when I got to the stage where I got a contractor in to do the soundproofing, I just said fuck it, I have to get a bank loan and just finish it off properly. Instead of dreaming about it, holding a cigarette late at night thinking it’ll be great when it’s done, I just went ahead and got it done.”

Another Way Of Being There - his second album with Halset released late last year - was very much a labour of love however. Fleshed out from a duo with minimal Dublin folk musician Jeff Martin for 2005’s Dramanalog to a four-piece featuring ex-Jubilee Allstar drummer/ Hidden Fortress electonist Cillian Mc Donnell and harpist, keys player Sinead Nic Gearailt (“probably the best musician I‘ve ever met” according to Stephen), the record - a grower in the very best, constantly revealing sense of the word - took three long years to complete.

“It was limitless and that’s why we spent three years on it,” Stephen says. “There were something like 40 songs to start with after we finished all the writing which was done in a little cottage in Leitrim where we’d go down and lash things out in five-day spells. Only then was there this four-way compromise of four really strong personalities and very different people too - you wouldn’t put us together socially but musically we’re very connected and will play for hours on end. It was a difficult process trying to filter through what everyone wanted because there are very few bands we even agree on so what you’re hearing is a refined version of just about everything we’re into. Somehow.

“But I think that‘s contributed to its uniqueness and that’s what makes it different,” he continues, taking some delight in the difficulty people have describing a sound where vague references to Sigur Ros and Mogwai provide mere guidance. “That was our mission statement that even if people think it’s rubbish or they don’t get it, at least we can say it’s our own. That’s what kept us going ‘cause I think a lot of bands start off with a pool of influences and don’t allow certain things in because they don’t work with what they were initially talking about.”

And if the reviews were surprising - not the fact that they were positive but that so many publications took note - the inclusion on the Choice Music Prize shortlist was a real shock. Although gratified with the attention that has necessitated a re-pressing of the album, Halfset are the only band - bar perhaps The Script - who don’t want to have to make a victory speech on Wednesday night.

“We feel like we’ve gotten almost too much,” Stephen explains. “I feel there are people on that list who are more deserving winners because they’re working a lot harder at their craft… The likes of Jape who’s touring up and down the country - we were up playing a show with him in Belfast and he’d been on the road for six weeks and asked our drummer Cillian, who he’s friends with, to bring up a pair of trousers for him ‘cause he ran out of clean clothes. He’s out doing it so people like that deserve it more.

“We worked really hard making an album - I busted my ass off editing during all of my free time for three years - but I’m not out gigging every night. I don’t have that ambition, I don’t want to be really successful at being a musician. I’m happy with what I have.”

Would they feel guilty then picking up the winning trophy and cheque? (And incidentally, even amidst outstanding competition, there’s a real chance of that being the case)

“Yeah, I’d feel there’d be too much expected of us. That we’d be under pressure to make another album and one that has to be better and we’d have to get nominated again. I don’t want that at all and I don’t really need it. I haven‘t invested everything in this band. Everybody works really hard at jobs they‘re into so we certainly wouldn‘t be able to give up everything we‘re doing to say tour the US for two weeks and we wouldn‘t be willing to either. It‘s a funny old scenario you know, but we went into making the album for the love of it and I hope you don’t think it sounds pretentious, but for art’s sake.”

That’s not to say there won’t be another Halfset album, it’ll just be done on their terms. For Stephen too, you imagine, it’ll also be down when his diary allows it because along with the aforementioned production work (and that was only a selection), he’s busy whittling down 100 or so songs along Max Richter/ Johan Johansson lines for a solo album and working on some parts for the new Neil Jordan film (with the others being looked after by Sigur Ros).

“We’re going to start jamming again in a few months time after we play a few gigs in March and just sit down once a week and start playing with a totally clean board,“ he says of Halfset’s immediate future. “Whatever anyone wants to bring to the table is fine - I’m going to try and play some other instruments - and whatever happens happens. That‘s how it started at the beginning so we‘re convinced we have to go back there.”

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