BACKSTAGE PASS:Are Republic of Loose the best band nobody has ever heard of? TARA BRADYgoes behind the scenes at their residency in the Academy to find out
WHEN HIBERNIA was flash and flush, music fans purged their excesses by reconnecting with simpler, purer forms. The soundtrack to the boom was not gauche but unplugged, earnest and strummed: “Hey,” it seemed to protest, “We’re not shallow and materialistic; we listen to David Gray with our eyes closed.”
Harder times, however, demand something a little more raucous and devil-may-care to raise the spirits. Luckily, we know just the racket. Since 2003, the Republic of Loose have been providing funk-rock tunes for some imagined party at the end of the universe. The band – comprising lead vocalist Mick Pyro, bassist Benjamin Loose, guitarist Dave Pyro, percussionist Andre Lopes and, at any given moment, between eight and 10 others – is populated enough to look like a carnival and have a big, brash r’n’b sound to match.
“If we want to play pop we can and do,” says Mick Pyro. “If we want to play metal or samba we can and do. There is loads of music we want to investigate. It’s hard to harness all that energy but we’re trying.”
Their eclectic influences – mostly drawn from “music that your dad likes” have long set them apart in Dublin’s guitar-scape, as has their fiercely independent status. “It’s not always in your best interests to sign a big contract with a label,” says Mick. “There were lots of Irish bands who signed deals and ended up deeply in debt. You have to decide what’s more important: making the music you want to make or fitting yourself into some marketable shape.”
Republic of Loose don’t do neat marketing shapes. Over the course of four albums and some 64 tracks, the collective have created an ongoing cacophony that is a little bit Michael Jackson, a little bit Prince, a little bit Mötley Crüe and a little bit Pogues. “Music is getting more and more specialised,” says Benjamin. “You can find that the nuances of music change from neighbourhood to neighbourhood. That’s great. But most kids will, on their iPod, have a wide variety and that’s got to be a good thing too. Bands like us are the opposite of specialised. We need our own little box outside the boxes.”
“We’re very r’n’b,” adds Mick. “But if you look at r’n’b acts from any country, they all look like Justin Timberlake. Our problem is that we have someone who looks like me doing the singing.”
They have, despite their angular tendencies, generated a massive, swarming fan-base. Damien Dempsey and Snow Patrol’s Gary Lightbody are fans: Bono reckons they are “trailblazers”; Mischa Barton, Sinéad O’Connor and Scissor Sisters’ Jake Shears are all Loose regulars.
Tonight, we’re backstage at the Academy as part of the band’s four-month residency at the venue. How long can it be before Ireland’s much-loved minstrels are required elsewhere? Or are they destined, like Lir before them, to become the greatest band nobody outside Ireland has ever heard of? “We hear that a lot,” says Benjamin. “It’s a bit of a double-edged sword. We like the part when people say ‘best band in the world’. But the ‘nobody’s ever heard of’ bit is less exciting for us. In Ireland, bands come up and we invest all this interest in them. If you don’t make it, if you don’t make it overseas, then you’re a failure. But we’re just happy to be out there playing.”
“We’ve been around so long we don’t think about it,” adds Mick. “We just concentrate on making music. People like Skip James and Nick Drake never sold a record. So we know are in good company.”
“At this stage,” says Benjamin, “we’ve been around so long we’re like an old doddery uncle who won’t shut up. And we like it that way.
Republic of Loose are on tour nationwide, republicofloose.com
