So let’s get philosophical. In the mid-fifties Guy Debord developed the idea of ‘Psychogeography’, the influence a place has on its inhabitants, their attitudes, values and how they go about their day to day. If you put that into a pop music perspective could you imagine Joy Division without Manchester, Bjork from anywhere but Iceland, Dury outside Essex or Tricky detached from Bristol? The psychogeographic pull has always shaped songs (Highway 61 Revisited, Guns Of Brixton, Trenchtown Rock etc etc) and inspired plenty a pub quiz question-setter. Guy’s idea gets everywhere. Thinking experimental and leftfield music, Google ‘psychogeography and music’ and the names Jon Hassell, Lewis Gilbert, Chris Watson and Matthew Herbert pop out. Now via the ever-eclectic Hive Mind comes the Irish collective Trá Pháidín, making their own intriguing entry into sonic psychogeographical world with their new album ‘An 424 (Expanded)’.
This nine piece electro- acoustic ensemble from Conamara, Galway have been releasing their folk-rooted post-rock explorations for several years now, showing a rising assurance in their sound and approach. Two albums into the ride, ‘Set a hAon’ from 2019 and ‘Set a dó ‘three years later, Trá Pháidín have been inclined to remain underground and unorthodox with both recordings presented as one single, forty minute plus track. Here is a big-band with serious intentions, stirring up a heady concoction of Godspeed scale, kosmische psychedelia and folk jazz but striving to keep things sinuous and earthy.
The new release, ‘An 424’ sees them honing their dynamic instrumental-based music with an even sharper focus and sense of purpose. The soundscape maps the 424 bus route as it winds around the rugged, remote Galway coastline, journeying daily from Conamara and towards the urban, “anglophone Ireland”. Setting out to encompass people’s routine travel through a spectral landscape in a set of tunes is an ambitious challenge but one that Trá Pháidín have confidently snatched up.
‘An 424’ is a thrill-packed spread of music on the move, songs which gather momentum gradually then steady down as they reach the next stop. cáin chairr gear changes from a slow, spacious sway to a bustling, downhill ride. The bass pumps, the snare ticks while vocals shout, the brass growls and Aoife de Bláca’s harp trills mischievously. Pared back to the motoric rhythm for the final bars this opener just breezes along.
There’s locomotion too in the craggy art rock of m’anam go b’ea. You get an air of quirky Canterbury prog meeting Sufjan Stevens Illinois-era daring here, the vibes, harp, filmic horns, sulky sax, jaunty notes and lo-fi choir showing off the nine piece in all its ragged beauty. cé mo dhuine siúl sa hi-vis is similarly impressive. A song which turns the corner from a shuffling Pastels swing and onto some sweeping tuneage before airborne flutes plus Peadar-Tom Mercier’s fuzzed guitar deliver a sparky climax.
Of all these free flowing, turbulent pieces perhaps the lengthy Monty Phádraic Jude comes closest to the band’s previous long form leanings. It’s deceptively mesmeric, built around a simple repeating note pattern which blurs between a folk-dance stomp and a krautrock hop then spiked with impish twists to ruffle any conventional trad melodicism. Frantic shouts (“Ha! Who! You!”), Orcutt guitar scrawling, a free form drum landslide, go-for-it improv and street banter face- offs shift the song into some psychedelia zone of their very own.
Current comparisons with Trá Pháidín don’t readily jump out at you on first hearing the band. Maybe you’ll catch a touch of Black Country, New Road, possibly a shot of Orchestre Tout Puissant Marcel Duchamp or even a flash of caroline (which, given that Irish producer and caroline workmate ‘Spud’ Murphy mixed ‘An 424’, isn’t a bad shout). Still clearly this collective are focused in forging ahead with their own sound.
From the unassuming spoken word vocals delivered with a weary Cathel Coughlan burr to the sharp-eyed characterisation of the music, ‘An 424’ is an album rammed with personalities. It’s about people in real places rather than just painterly responses to landscapes. Take the brisk caricature of maidin heinz with its clatter of Sun Ra strolling blues and plucky country guitar twang. It’s like a brush with Swordfishtrombones vaudeville absurdism. Then there’s the swanky surf rock conga of yung fella, a mover and shaker Trá Pháidín style, swaggering down the main-street to jazzy guitar, wristy congas and chirpy flutes. The collective work the groove relentlessly then tease with a wind down where the percussion goes dubby and the instruments fly off in tangents. After a surprise pause a noisy reverse-tape squall calls time.
So there’s plenty packed into ‘An 424’ as it wriggles around its road but the album never feels onerous. Shorter, interlude tracks shape the narrative, their found sounds adding intrigue and authenticity. On songs like the eerie dark folk drama of fear Liatroime páirt 1 or the spooky flute whispering teach tuí Bhearna the wild Galway terrain is brought closer. Even the three extra tracks on this extended new edition of the 2023 original re-work maidin Heinz, cáin chairr and Monty Phádraic Jude with enough kaleidoscopic intent to justify their place on the ‘An 424’ excursion.
Trá Pháidín are a band that has slipped quietly into the circus, their mystique and integrity intact. With an album as impressive as this those facets might be difficult to sustain but you sense that this bunch of singular, committed musicians are determined to try. Next stop is anyone’s guess…
Get your copy of ‘An 424’ by Trá Pháidín from your local record store or direct from Hive Mind HERE or via Honest Jon’s HERE
