Declan de Barra

Declan de Barra – Bio – PR Bullshit Quotient 0.000012%

Mmmm biographies…are inevitably full of shite and designed to make the artist sound like they are the latest, hottest, bright new thing sweeping the charts. Life is too short to wade though shite. So I will write this myself and spare you the publicity speak.

There are no tales of rampant drug use, alcoholism or throwing TV’s out windows. It probably won’t make me sound like a rock star but there you go.

I have been a musician and artist all my life. I am lucky enough to travel around the world to meet new people and play music for them. Some times I get to play with amazing musicians who leave me feeling like I have been hit by lightning.

I was born on the southern coast of Ireland in a tiny village. Lived in a caravan and then a bus for a few years. Went to school and discovered an immense disliking for pointless authority whilst developing a pure hatred for the Catholic Church who ran the ultra conservative state. The north of my country was on fire most days, we hadn’t invented the Celtic tiger yet and there was not much in the way of hope or work. And there was fuck all on the TV. At 18 I joined the tide of Irish people emigrating and moved to Australia. There I discovered I was very bored of hearing the phrase “I’m not a racist but…”

All this hatred of oppression of the weak, small mindedness and social injustice is pretty easy to find in my songs. I hope that hope itself seeps out in between the words not just bitterness. Well that’s up to you I suppose. The song and what it means belongs to you when you listen to it. That’s why I loathe deconstructing the lyrics for people. Nothing wrong with a bit of mystery.

Sometimes what I have to say gets me in trouble, not as much trouble as some other musicians I have met who have been put on death lists or have actually been locked up in jails for what they have said. And if you think I am talking about just third world dictatorships, you’d be wrong.

In Australia I studied as a painter but decided it was too elitist and slipped naturally into the world of music. It was electric form of direct artistic communication…fuck it, it was fun.

I spent years touring and playing intense music in various bands. The music went bang and so did I. Blood, torn joints, mental exhaustion and chipped teeth. I came close to having my left arm amputated once after a show supporting Kiss (Yes the guys in make up…wasn’t my idea). Buy me a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you the whole story. After years doing the band thing (start a group, record, tour, argue, break up) I decided to go it alone and picked up a guitar. I would have preferred piano couldn’t carry one on my back. I wanted to be mobile, a guerilla troubadour. And it’s pretty much worked out that way.

As a side note people often ask how did you survive for so many years without a “Real Job”. Well since I was 16 I have worked on and off as a bouncer, a goon, a meat-head. I was a big fucker and have been doing martial arts since age 9 so it was a natural progression. Short hours, flexible time, disappear for months on end, plus it gave me loads of time to think and write. I always carried a notebook for lyrics. Poetry on the door. Plus that absurd portion of life and the people I watched gave me lots to write about. It was the twilight zone on crack. I always thought of it as entering the right hand panel of Hieronymus Bosch’s Garden of earthly delights. People trying to smash bottles in your face one minute, setting themselves on fire the next, laughing, fucking, crying, puking, urinating in crowds. Fortunately things have been good since I hit the road as the guerilla troubadour and I no longer have to speak drunkese.

In 2005 I wrote, recorded and released an album called "Song of a Thousand Birds" recorded mostly in an abandoned room in Dublin with a couple of songs recorded in Melbourne. I was lucky enough to have some of my favourite musicians from Ireland play on it along with two songs written with former Australian Clann Zú band mates. People said nice things about it and word of mouth spread enabling me to tour and keep writing.

Since then I have been on the road, one minute playing a world music festival, the next an indie rock club, punk rock squat or folk festival. Sometimes staying in a plush hotel sometimes sleeping on someone’s floor arguing with the cat for space. I love looking out into the crowd and seeing old and young, punk and world music jazz head, Goth beside Folkie. I didn’t plan it like that but it makes me happy.

In 2008 I recorded “A fire to scare the sun” in the same abandoned room I recorded my first album. I would love to say it was an easy process but it was like pulling teeth with rusty pliers and then shoving them back in again after dipping them in salt. Paralysis by analysis. Sometimes you have to say “Fuck it, it is what it is...shut the fuck up and play”. So after months of agonizing over this word and that note I just went in and played. I let the songs be themselves without worrying. I sat back and realized I had “A fire to scare the sun”.

I was lucky enough to have Brian Hogan from Kila on lapsteel and Gretsch goodness , James Dunne from the RTE symphony Orchestra on drums, long suffering touring buddy and cellist extraordinaire Mary Barnecutt and virtuoso Cora Venus Lunny on violin and viola. After hearing Cora sing at a concert we played together I convinced her to sing on some songs. A good move.

I enjoyed singing on this record. I enjoy singing. Truly. Voice is my main instrument of communication. I can make it do things I could never do with another instrument. I never feel as alive as when I reach that place singing where I am out of myself and not in control. It just flows. That is magic to me and that is why I keep doing this.

I always design the art for the music, I am particularly happy with the art for “A Fire to scare the sun”. I think it reflects visually the sounds I hear. It’s all a cycle, I will speak a line or play a note and a little image appears in my head, soon it’s joined by others, very soon a little film begins to play in my head. Then I translate that into a song, and then sometimes I translate the songs back into paintings or animated films.

So here I am getting ready to go out on tour again. For me right now life is good. I know for a lot of good people it is not. Life is short. I hope you are happy. See you on the road somewhere...

Declan de Barra