A version of this originally appeared in the September 2014 issue of tn2 magazine, which you can find on their website (http://www.tn2magazine.ie) should the need strike you.
Westport surf-pop outfit Me and My Dog have been making waves on the Irish independent scene for a while now. Their folksy, engrossing debut EP Three Songs About Me and My Dog was followed by an absorbing split cassette tape, Delphi, released in conjunction with garage-rock hellraisers (and fellow westerners) Oh Boland on the lively Dublin label Popical Island.
This endearingly callow four-piece have gone from strength to strength since their first gig in an underground opticians over a year ago. From their captivatingly carefree aesthetic, to the surreal ingenuity of their promotional photoshops, to the hilarious ‘accidental fans’ that occasionally appear on social media (people have been known to tag the band in photos of themselves with their dogs), it’s hard not to fall for this band’s singular charm.
They’re practicing for a gig in Galway when I meet them at The Pop Inn, the delectable new Popical Island venue on Little Britain Street. Luke Healy, frontman and snapback enthusiast, describes their sound as “garden variety indie pop with a self-loathing edge” or “gone off bubblegum”. They’re visibly delighted to be sharing rehearsal space with the Popical Island family, whom they’re all “crazy big fans” of: “It’s weird to just be playing gigs with them all the time now, I guess” says Healy. “We really forced our way in” jokes Tim O’Reilly, drummer. Healy flippantly maintains they “got (their) foot in the door and just kept kicking”.
They’ve been compared in the press to surf-rock luminaries like The Beach Boys, a comparison that isn’t entirely unfounded. Their songs could elegantly soundtrack a coastal bike ride, idle Saturday cans or a skittish dog charging towards the sea. Healy’s jaunty vocals are kept buoyant by the playful shimmying of guitarist Josh Noone. Breezy melodies stay anchored by the durable pulse of their rhythm section (O’Reilly and bassist Austen Smith). Lyrically, Healy mostly deals with the sort of Gen-Y ennui that would grate were it not tactfully insulated with such engaging instrumentation. Their sound is best distilled on Delphi earworms ‘Better Than I Thought’ and ‘The Scenic Route’, where ferociously catchy riffs fuse effortlessly with thundering percussion; all ferried along by lyrics that are shrewd, unpretentious and often insightful.
They launched, or rather, as Noone quips, “tried to launch” Delphi in The Pop Inn with Oh Boland at the beginning of the summer. Unfortunately, the gig was shut down early (“probably one of the low points in our playing career”) due to the ostensible absence of a ‘dancehall licence’ (which is just as puzzling as you’d imagine). When asked about the incident they’re somewhat reticent: “It was pretty vague. I think it all boiled down to a miscommunication”. It hasn’t hampered their progress, however. If anything, they seem more energised by what they see as a minor setback. The question of “what’s next?” is greeted with an orchestra of nervous laughter. They’re currently “taking a really long time to write stuff”, but have “lots of gigs coming up”. They also seem giddy about the prospect of the ‘Hard Working Class Heroes Five-A-Side’ (seemingly the brainchild of notable Dublin-based electronic group Meltybrains). O’Reilly jokes that he’s been “practicing all summer…I’ve barely touched a drum kit but I’ve been on the pitch twice a week”.
the lobster pot 