Last year they played to a few stragglers in a tent, but with a new album and record label under their belt, Oxegen turned out to a considerably different experience for Belfast six-piece Cashier No.9. UNA MULLALLYjoined them for a day of gig preparations, interviews, free beer and autographs
AT 12.30pm on Saturday, Cashier No.9 are en route from Belfast to Punchestown for their Oxegen slot, an afternoon gig at 3.55pm in the colossal Heineken Green Spheres tent. In some ways, the six-piece typify an up-and-coming band on the cusp, but in other ways they’re nothing like the stereotype.
The ingredients of a buzz band are all there: from a city (Belfast) with a music scene almost tangled up with brilliant new bands, their newly released album To The Death Of Funis earning critical acclaim; they've a hotshot producer behind the desk in the form of Mr David Holmes, plus a cool indie label taking care of business, Bella Union, which was founded by two of the Cocteau Twins and has been instrumental in guiding Beach House, Fleet Foxes, Midlake and The Walkmen to success. But the egos and coiffed hipster image are absent, as is any semblance of cashing in on a "now" sound. There's no lo-fi shoegazing chillwave, nor nods to post-dubstep blog-friendly noodling. Instead, Cashier No.9 present well-crafted lush pop songs with immaculate writing and structures pinning them together almost surgically. "When you're a bit older, you give a hell of a lot less of a f**k about what people think," as drummer Phil Duffy puts it.
At Oxegen last year, they were shoehorned into an odd slot after Villagers headlined a tent, which they say was “weird” and where they found themselves playing to a few stragglers. This time, with an album, label and PR liaison in tow, it’s slightly different.
Cashier No.9 are singer and guitarist Danny Todd – a chatty and likeable character who signs the Hot PressSigning Tent board of fame "Tashier No. 10"; guitarist James Smith, who looks like a cross between Serge Pizzorno of Kasabian and Billy Crudup's character in Almost Famousand is rarely without a bottle of beer and a cigarette; Stuart Magowan, a bass player who's all baggy jeans and baseball cap; long-haired Ronan Quinn on keys, whose best mate is the band's driver and is prone to shooting him funny faces while they're on stage; Phil Duffy, the waistcoated drummer who has a tour manager-esque authority and organisational skills; and Philip "Wally" Wallace, who joined them a month ago on percussion, a lovely chap in a bowler hat.
Last weekend, they played to a packed crowd at the Wireless festival in London, a gig that was a career highlight both as a band and as individuals considering they’ve spent years in other bands going over to London in transit vans playing to near-empty venues.
Things are happening.
When they arrive on site at Punchestown, it's straight into promo mode, a conveyor belt of radio interviews in the media area that surrounds the VIP space backstage at Oxegen, a conclave of broadcast vans and prefabs. They bounce from 98fm's Totally Irishshow ("where's Danny? It's like bringing a kid to the fairground," they say the first time they can't find him) to Phantom for another interview and photos, back to the 2fm roadcaster. "You go in," they say to Quinn, who takes up the challenge. "I only end up saying a few words," he laughs, putting on an interview-voice. "'That's right', 'aye'."
After that interview, Wally turns up, pint in hand. “Free pints?” Duffy asks. “Aye. All day and all night.” “Where?” Wally point towards the hallowed free artists’ bar that lies between the VIP area and a building holding a network of dressing rooms, where media presence is strictly verboten.
At 2.25pm they see the familiar faces of the BBC Northern Ireland Across The Linecrew and give a quick interview before heading back towards their small white van, which will shuttle their gear over to the tent they're playing in.
“It’s hard to get you guys interested in us Nordie bands down here,” Smith remarks on the figurative gulf between the northern and southern music scenes. That gulf is closing with Two Door Cinema Club, And So I Watch You From Afar, Not Squares, and now Cashier No.9 beginning to draw as many fans down in the Republic as they do up North.
He has a point though, like Dublin bands playing to apathy in London, northern bands seem to have to work harder to gain fans in the Republic. “Then when you start getting somewhere, you’re suddenly ‘Irish’,” he jokes.
As Cashier No.9 negotiate Brandon Flowers's truck and Taylor Momsen's gear to sort out their stuff backstage, teen-pleasing pop-rockers Fox Avenue walk out on stage to a small crowd. At 3pm, Bressie's crew are sorting out their equipment while Cashier No.9 continue to tune guitars and set up drums. The branding obviously hasn't had too much impact on them considering they take a Corona break before half three, while Duffy warms up his wrists. At 3.55pm, they walk out to a few hundred people, a figure that multiplies over the course of the gig, opening with Goldstar, a tune that Hot Press'sStuart Clarke will later praise as one of his favourites of the year, while literally patting them on their backs.
Todd, like the rest of the guys, has been playing in bands for years. It was only after a few people nudged him to send out some songs he’d been writing to more people and an Electric Proms gig was booked in London that he called on Smith and Magowan to form some semblance of a band. Todd had extravagant ideas about drum machines and synthesizers, but it all ended up “a bit Milli Vanilli”, considering it was really three guys and a laptop, he says.
That was around 2007. When Todd started passing songs back and forth to David Holmes, and Holmes used one of them for a soundtrack he was doing for the 2009 thriller Cherry Bomb, pace gathered. Holmes and Todd work at the same pace, throwing ideas together, discarding them, starting again. It's frantic and it works. Holmes is pretty much the "extra member" of the group.
The gig goes perfectly, apart from Wally's harmonica mic being on the blink. Off stage, they hug each other, Todd continues to chew nicotine gum, and Wally and Smith clink bottles of beer in understated celebration. By the time they've loaded their gear back into the van and finished a Hot Pressinterview, things take a turn for the surreal, as a large queue gathers for a signing.
“When we went to sit down I thought ‘who the f**k is going to want our scrawls?’,” Duffy remarks. But nevertheless, they spend 30 minutes signing magazines and body parts and avoiding eye contact with an overzealous Australian woman who is shouting praise.
A few more beers and some dinner later, they’re allowed to relax and check out bands themselves. It’s a bit of a change from last year, although Todd maintains the main difference in the past few months is everyone asking them how they got signed to Bella Union. He answers the question himself: “Cos we’re f**king good.”
Cashier No.9 play The Academy in Dublin on August 5th. Tickets €13 from ticketmaster.ie
