#Being Irish myself I always knew that the UK has so many issues and living here can be difficult.

[bondsmagii]

If it's not too personal, could you talk a bit about your experiences growing up in Northern Ireland with the civil war and the cultural differences between the north and the republic etc? I have Irish ancestry but none of the Irish part of my family is alive and I'm trying really hard to reconnect with that part of my blood and pay homage to it, so hearing about the experiences of someone who's lived it would mean so, so much to me.

I can try but I can’t promise it’ll make any sense; it’s a highly nuanced situation and I experienced it as one person living in one time period and the whole thing is just a huge mess but! I’ll try and keep it as succinct as possible lmao (good luck to me).

basically the most simplified version of the issue is thus:

Britain, being Britain, takes over Ireland, because of course they do

nasty bastards about it

Irish people are understandably pissed and there’s about 800 years of conflict

Britain keeps sending British people over there to settle (mostly from Scotland originally) to up British numbers and get those bastard Irish Catholics out of the idea they can like, live in their own country

things escalate

rebellions happen

Big Rebellion happens (the 1916 Easter Rising)

the Irish War of Independence happens and Britain is finally like OK we’ll chat (centuries later)

My Man Michael Collins goes over the London and negotiates a treaty 

Ireland is given independence but not the six north-eastern-most counties; these countries are the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland respectively

(you’ll sometimes see Protestants calling Northern Ireland “Ulster” but they’re wrong because Ulster is a province and has nine counties not six)

(Catholics tend to avoid using “Northern Ireland” and will call it “the North of Ireland”, “the Six Counties”, or if they’re really political “the Occupied Six Counties”)

some other stuff happened that I won’t get into here because I’ll just bitch about Eamon de Valera for eight hours (if you want to see me bitching I did so here)

the North of Ireland was partitioned as such because of its huge number of British-identifying Protestants descending from the people who had moved over; they wished to remain British and so the North is still a part of the UK today

Irish-identifying Catholics in the North were understandably pissed about this because they wanted their whole country back but were now stuck across a land border with neighbours who didn’t particularly like them and whom they did not particularly like

this escalated into a civil war known as The Troubles (because we’re really great at understating things) where thousands of people died in a bloody conflict mostly contained in the North

(aside from occasional skirmishes and people using the border as a way to escape conviction, the Republic didn’t really have much to do with this war)

it was Bad Times and the North was eventually occupied by British soldiers who set up bases and patrolled the streets and backed up the police for several decades, which only further escalated things 

many years of shootings and bombings and beatings and terror ensued

this is about the point where I come in and start trying to grow up there, fun times 

I’ll put the rest under a cut because wow this is already very long and I haven’t even touched on what it was like to grow up there lmao

detailed accounts of living in a literal warzone under the cut, so beware.

Civil War Funtimes

growing up in a warzone like the one I grew up in was wack as hell because it’s not… acknowledged as a civil war at all. like the rest of the UK kind of just forget it ever happened or they don’t know about it at all, and like as much as I don’t like to admit it the North is UK soil and the idea that thousands of people could be killing one another in the fucking UK is just phenomenal to me. when I talk about my experiences growing up and don’t specify the country, people hear what I went through and assume I grew up in Bosnia or Chechnya or something. it was that bad.

the strange thing is, as unpleasant as it was, while I was growing up there it was totally normal. it was scary sometimes, when coming into direct contact with things, but a lot of the time it was just inconvenient. I remember being stuck in traffic on the motorway going into Belfast and it was hot and we had no water and we were there for hours and we were moaning and complaining and finally when we were allowed to move again it turned out there was a bomb up ahead and the Army had been called in to diffuse it, but at the time it wasn’t about The Bomb but more about I’m Hot and Thirsty and Several Hours Are Gone From The Time I Had To Run Errands In Belfast. it was only when I moved away from the North and lived a more normal life that I looked back and began processing fully how fucked up it was to live there.

I’m Catholic, so right off the bat I kind of got the shitty end of the stick. both sides were bad, don’t get me wrong, but Protestants had the backing of the police and the British Army and it’s been confirmed that both organisations backed Protestant paramilitary death squads; i.e., helped gangs of Protestant terrorists murder Catholics and get away with it. they also committed a lot more atrocities of their own, including opening fire on unarmed civilians, so it’s kind of a shitty deal when the two organisations sent in to protect everyone align with one side of the civil war and don’t give a shit if you’re getting beaten to death in front of them or something. I remember one time my friends and I were chased by a gang of people who found out we were Catholic somehow, and they were throwing lit fireworks at us in full view of the police, who did nothing. we were 15. 

how did they know we were Catholic? there’s a million ways to tell. growing up there sort of required knowing what I call the sectarian geography of the country. certain places were Catholic, and certain places were Protestant. saying you were from a certain town or village could confirm your religion to a potential enemy. in large cities, especially Belfast, saying the street you were from could out you. I had to be careful what side of the road I walked on, and there were streets I couldn’t exit from if I was going into the city centre for fear that someone would see and wait for me. likewise, names could be used to identify you. my friends and I had several different names we’d give depending on what area we were in or the name or accent of the person talking to us. it’s subtle things, too – I mean obviously you’re Catholic if your name is Seamus or Sean or Eamon and obviously you’re Protestant if you’re called William or Billy but it wasn’t always as obvious as that. it was safer to be subtle. if I’m in a Catholic area and want to use a fake name for whatever reason, I’m Joseph McCarthy. if I cross the street to a Protestant area, I’d be better off as James McAllister. all of us learned this growing up, and there were so many nuances I can’t even remember a lot of them now. I know should I ever visit Belfast again it’ll all come back, and so will the subtle shifts in my accent depending on where I am. but to think I knew all this at 12, 13, 14 years old? and it was the difference between life and death, quite literally? I have no idea how I dealt with the stress.

making it into the city was only half of the battle, anyway. violence could erupt at any moment, and bomb scares were known to happen. I’ve been in a number of riots which almost always escalated from a peaceful protest, because of Army and police presence being unwelcome or unfairly biased. during such riots people could and did die: the police and Army used rubber bullets because they’re apparently “less deadly”, but many people, including small children caught in the crossfire, were killed by them. often there was added danger from the IRA (Irish Republican Army; the main Catholic paramilitary force) who would show up to take shots at the police and soldiers, meaning that civilians were very often caught in the no-man’s land between offensive and defensive fire. this was not occasional pistol fire, either: both sides were armed with semi- or fully-automatic weapons. again, this is on streets legally in the UK. 

bombs were also a threat, though most of the time they were just threats to create panic and disruption. however, it was occasionally real: I once found a bomb myself, in a newly opened supermarket that was packed during its first week. it was hidden on the shelving and around its outside, nails and ball bearings had been taped to use as shrapnel. I remember going quickly to tell the store manager and him pulling the fire alarm so people didn’t panic too much. everyone went out into the car park and it was only when the bomb squad arrived that people realised. a humorous note to this story is that my parents lost me in the chaos, and found me talking animatedly to several police officers and a member of the bomb squad, in his full protective gear. I was 13, and I’m sure they were wondering just what kind of trouble I’d got myself into in the 20 minutes I’d been out of their sight.

finally, a lot of people died. I mean, a lot. thousands, in a country with a population of only one eighth the size of London alone. every single person in that country knew someone who had died or been injured during the fighting. it’s a very close-knit country; both sides of the conflict have a strong community spirit and towns and districts are often very close, with many people knowing everyone if not by name then by sight. when you take several thousand people and have them killed violently, their death will be felt through fifty to one hundred of their friends, families, neighbours, colleagues, etc. in a country so small, that reverberates and quickly takes in everyone. many people knew several of the dead; older people might know dozens. many more would have witnessed something. my friend group were no different. it’s been over a decade and I still can’t talk about it in any detail, but all I’ll say is that I lost a friend of mine when I was 15, and it was a very violent, drawn-out death at the hands of a mob of adults. he was my age. the reason for it was because he was Catholic. being the same age as him made it a very strange experience. even now, on my birthday, I think about the fact that he would be my age if he had lived. he’s frozen in time, and the rest of us have grown up and moved on, and it’s so unfair it makes me feel sick.

as for the culture,

(forgive the abrupt ending, but to be honest that part of things always exhausts my emotions when talking about what it was like to live like that.)

I’m sorry that this is a wholly depressing account, but it was a warzone; I get the feeling that’s to be expected. what I can say is that despite everything, I miss living there dearly. despite how horrible it could be, the country is beautiful and a vast majority of the people I met and grew up with were wonderful. I miss it a lot. I miss the landscapes, I miss all the places I used to go to lose myself. I miss the forests and the waterfalls, I miss the Causeway Coast, I miss turning the bend on the motorway and seeing Belfast nestled in its valley with the sea on one side and Cave Hill on the other. I miss the little villages, I miss getting lost in the fields and the trees and the trails, I miss the tiny little pubs and the small harbours and drinking by the lough with my friends. I miss the food, and I miss all the little quirks in the way we talked, and I miss walking down the street or going into a shop and having my friends’ parents recognise me and act like they’re all my mothers (“ach, how’ve you been? lookit you! I can’t believe it. you used to be so wee!” – no matter if they’d seen me a week ago, I was always wee then and taller now).

I was lucky enough that my friends and I were much more open-minded; members of the new generation who were getting sick to death of all the fighting. there were both Catholics and Protestants in our friend group, and sometimes the only thing that got us through was making dark jokes and poking fun at one another. I miss that, too – living away from the country and knowing no other people from there makes reconciling what happened very difficult. even now I have an innate connection with people when we hear one another’s accents. we’ll start chatting like old friends, and it’s wonderful, because religion doesn’t come up at all. we’ll ask where each other is from, and usually we’ll have heard of it, and then we’ll probably start bitching about the weather or the roadworks that are still there eight years later or something. sometimes we’ll even start making a few dark jokes of our own, and it’s always a relief to laugh. it loosens something in the chest. I don’t think there’s a group of people more resilient than those from the North. we’ve seen some shit, and we still manage to live through it and laugh about it. I remember one time in school, when we were about 16, me and my fellow Catholics were going to skip school for St Patrick’s Day (we never got given the day off, honestly) and our Protestant friends were jealous, and we invited them along and they were jokingly saying that nah, they couldn’t, it’s a Catholic celebration, it wouldn’t be right, etc, and finally one of them was like “we’ll come to St Paddy’s Day if you skip school and come with us on St Proddy’s Day” and we were like “what the fuck is St Proddy’s Day” and he was like “idk it’s like St Paddy’s Day but for Protestants” and I was like “alright when is it” and everyone decided it was the day after St Patrick’s Day so our entire group skipped school for a two-day drinking fest. to be honest it’s stuff like that I remember more than the fighting. 

I didn’t get to go to the Republic as much as I wanted to, but despite the border I find the culture is just as warm, just as welcoming, and the sense of humour is brilliant across the board. Irish/Northern Irish culture, no matter what you want to call it, is just very familial. it’s warm. everyone is genuinely interested in everyone, everyone is genuinely there for a laugh (craic, as we’d say – pronounced “crack”. common greeting is “what’s the craic?”). it’s a nice place to be. you come from a culture known across the world for its friendliness and its love of fun, but as depressing as some of this information is, I hope you realise that you also come from a very resilient people. despite everything I love the place and I hope to go back one day, when I’m ready to do so. and the best part is that despite everything, I know I’ll be welcome.

#about me #this is so long and i wrote it more as conversational prose sorry if it's incoherent!!! #ireland #anon #asks

[lewishamledger]

South London social

Words by Emma Finamore; Photo by Joe Magowan

You might think that growing older inevitably means a smaller social circle and going to fewer places. But there’s a group of south London senior citizens keeping very busy, getting together regularly for activities in New Cross, as well as Bermondsey, Camberwell and Brixton.

The Southwark Irish Pensioners Project (SIPP) has been a lifeline to hundreds of elderly, vulnerable and isolated Irish people in Southwark for the past 20 years, helping those who moved here in the 1950s and 1960s to get the essential support they need.

The SIPP currently supports over 400 pensioners, with services ranging from nutritious meals and befriending, to hospital visits and benefits and pensions advice. And, although it is open to non-Irish people too, SIPP is tailored to meet the needs of a community that moved here under a set of specific circumstances, and faced a set of specific challenges.

According to SIPP, “Our pensioners emigrated to England at a time when racism towards Irish people was rife. Many learned to survive by not talking, as their accents betrayed their origins. They socialised in their own communities – churches, dance halls and pubs. They avoided authorities and many still mistrust statutory agencies.”

A feeling of togetherness is therefore an important one to maintain, and the programme of regular activities and events helps to do this: Wednesdays means bingo and lunch in New Cross and Brixton; on Thursday the pensioners get together for tea, cake and a chat in Bermondsey; and on Fridays they play cards.

Once a month there’s a tea dance in Camberwell – featuring traditional Irish music and Irish dancing, as well as tunes from the 1950s and 1960s – and sometimes they do karaoke at the SIPP headquarters in Bermondsey.

They mark the milestones of the year together too, with Christmas dinner at Millwall football ground, Easter celebrations and a big St Patrick's Day party, as well as day trips to Bermondsey Carnival, Rotherhithe Festival and the Lambeth Country Show.

At a Thursday gathering, Margaret – in her mid-70s – sits at one of the project’s bustling tables, surrounded by people chatting (and some knitting), slicing up homemade rhubarb pie and passing it around the group. She’s been coming to group activities since she lost her husband five years ago, and it’s provided her with support ever since.

"It gets me out of the house," she says. "I like to get out or else I'll get depressed – I lost my husband but then also my daughter a year ago, and my youngest daughter is now terminally ill at 47. So I get very depressed, if I stayed in I'd be crying, there's too much time to think – but out of the house it's better."

Opposite her is Bridget – whose daughter baked the rhubarb pie – who is fairly new to the group; she’s been coming along to SIPP get-togethers for just a few months. "I come for company, it can be really lonely at home,” she explains. “I've got good family though, one of my daughters comes up every day, but the others live out of London so I can’t see them as often. Loneliness is the worst."

This is probably the most important service that the project provides: while the practical support with things like health and pensions is significant, keeping loneliness at bay and helping older people come together for friendship and laughter is vital. Currently, 70% of the pensioners accessing help via SIPP are over 75 years of age and nearly 60% of them live alone.

According to research, over nine million people in the UK – almost a fifth of the population – say they are always or often lonely (British Red Cross and Co-Op, 2016), and it disproportionally affects older people.

There are 1.2 million chronically lonely older people in the UK, and half a million older people go at least five or six days a week without seeing or speaking to anyone at all (Age UK 2016, No-one should have no one).

Aside from being an ethical one, preventing loneliness is a public health issue too: research shows it is as bad for us as smoking and obesity, and increases our chances of suffering from dementia, heart disease and depression. Loneliness is even likely to increase your risk of death by 29%. Organisations like SIPP are tackling this head on.

"All the Irish people come from different parts of the country and talk about where they grew up, some have similar backgrounds. Like Dublin people all have a similar background – we were city people – and then there are the country people. You can tell by the different accents," says Bridget, who left Dublin in 1946 when she was just 18 "for the adventure" and went to Wales before pitching up in London to work with a friend at a Highbury hotel. She met her (Irish) husband in a cafe in Regents Park – “He always said he should have left me there!” she laughs.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the table, Alf – who’s turning 70 in a few days – is talking about a TV show he saw recently that revealed Coronation Street cast members' family ancestry. One actor found out he had a lot of Irish heritage, and returned to the area of his family’s origin. "He met two people,” says Alf, “one was the guy ferrying him across, and he turned out to be a relative, and the historian who interviewed him – and he turned out to be a relative!"  

Family history is important to many at SIPP – although it welcomes people of all backgrounds, not just Irish. Alf's father was from Belfast and his mother was from Rotherhithe, and despite never living on the island of Ireland he feels a connection with the place and the people.

"I’ve got lots of Irish friends and with Belfast – I know it's Northern Ireland – I still consider myself part Irish and I like mixing with people generally,” he explains. “And I do a bit of calling for the bingo too, so that's my contribution." 

Bridget is most enthusiastic about the project’s monthly tea dances – they seem to connect her to her youth. "It’s not all Irish music, it's from the fifties onwards,” she says. “All the songs you knew when you were younger. The music is great. We have sandwiches and cakes, but people are up and dancing too." 

Talking about the St Patrick's Day celebrations puts a smile on Margaret’s face –  "The children all do the Irish dancing" – while someone behind her starts singing one of the old tunes. "And they give you a shamrock," adds Bridget.

“Most of the people here are from the country part of Ireland – they go in for all the Irish dancing and music, while Dublin people don't really – but it gets me mixing with other people. And you can talk when sometimes young people don't want to listen. I'm over 90 now and sometimes people take it for granted that there is something wrong with you – but I can remember things lots of people can't."

Sharing things with others, good and bad, is important too, and it’s facilitated by gatherings organised by the project. Bridget says: "We can talk about families and tragedies, and all the ups and downs, we talk about grandchildren, and now our great grandchildren!"

Relationships formed between members are now longstanding, and continue outside SIPP gatherings: pensioners will sometimes go for a bite to eat together after an activity or a do a spot of shopping.  

The organisation obviously helps keep people young, too. Margaret, Bridget and Alf talk about another member – Nora – who did a charity parachute jump for charity last year aged 88, and a bungee jump the year before that. "She's a great woman," says Margaret. The power of friendship should definitely not be underestimated.

[snowpatrolfanclubbrazil]

Snow Patrol’s Gary Lightbody: ‘I wrote it to save myself from my depression’

Snow Patrol frontman Gary Lightbody talks about his struggle with alcohol and mental health, and the band’s first album in seven years

Gary Lightbody’s mood of late has been reflective. A raft of publicity interviews surrounding Snow Patrol’s return after a seven-year hiatus has dragged up a lot in terms of emotional baggage. Headlines about the battle with alcohol and struggles with mental health that plagued Lightbody when the band wound down for a number of years have been plentiful. Honesty, Lightbody says, was always going to be the policy this time around. He warned his nearest and dearest that what he was about to discuss wasn’t going to be pretty.

“I made the decision that there was no question that I wasn’t going to answer,” says Lightbody. “I said to myself and anyone else that I needed [to], ‘I’m going to say everything, I’m never going to not answer a question when we are doing this.’ I needed everybody to know that.”

True to his word, Lightbody has been open and frank while discussing the depths he sank to before making the decision to give up alcohol completely. Finding himself drinking alone in numerous establishments was a warning sign, as were the shadows cast on his mental health due to daily boozing sessions. Suicide was something that crossed his mind, he has said.

Today, two years since he had his last drink just before his 40th birthday, he has no regrets. Opening up about his problems has, he says, saved him.

“I opened the place in myself, the door that I was always too afraid to open. Now that it’s open, I have to keep it open and it’s the only way to protect myself from it happening again,” he says.

Lightbody drew on his personal experiences while writing songs for Wildness, the band’s latest album. Although singles such as Don’t Give In provide a clear link to his struggles, Lightbody says it was never his intention to write the album to help others.

“There’s very little nobility to songwriting — if other people relate to it, that’s amazing. I don’t think trying to guess what people want you to say is valuable. If it has the secondary effect of helping people in their own lives in a small way, then that’s great. But I have to be honest, it wasn’t intentional. I wrote this album for myself and I always do.”

Wildness topped the charts in Ireland, but was held off from the top post in the UK by the soundtrack from The Greatest Showman. Chart positions were not, Lightbody insists, high on the agenda of the group, which was formed at the University of Dundee in 1994. He praises the patience of bandmates Johnny McDaid, Jonny Quinn, Nathan Connolly and Paul Wilson for the time it took to finish the new record. Despite some songs taking two years for him to finish, he says the band never pushed him.

To be welcomed back with such open arms has been a bonus, he says, seeming genuinely surprised at the reception of the record.

“We really weren’t expecting anything — we’ve been away for such a long time. The real triumph and the real joy was just in getting the album out, full stop, you know? There were times when we were making it that I thought, ‘I’m never going to get this done.’ So to actually release it was a hell of a thing.”

Wildness has been lauded by fans and critics as worth the wait, particularly against the backdrop of the struggles Lightbody overcame to write each track. The band’s first release since Fallen Empires in 2011, Wildness journeys from Lightbody’s struggles and his beloved father Jack’s battle with dementia on Soon, through to more uplifting, hopeful tones in Heal Me and Life on Earth.

“The lyrics took a long time to finish,” he admits. “The music was done and they were waiting for me to sing the last words, and I was still writing the last words. It was Heal Me that we finished last, and when I finished and wrote the last line . . . I thought that I was going to feel this real sense of release and joy and accomplishment — anything. I felt bereavement — a deep, deep loss, like something terrible happened and I couldn’t figure out why.”

The other glaringly obvious problem, Lightbody says, was that since he had stopped drinking he struggled with grasping how he was supposed to celebrate signing off the record. Similar feats with albums including Final Straw (2003) and Eyes Open (2006) resulted in banging nights out and banging headaches, mustered with a sense of achievement and accomplishment. Without alcohol, would any celebration feel worthy of sending Wildness to the presses?

“I went home that night and was sitting on my own and thinking, ‘This feels very strange.’ It took two weeks before the feeling that I was hoping for sank in and I started to feel this feeling of accomplishment. It was very weird, a slow release, and I guess that’s probably the way of things from now on. There isn’t that full-stop. Well, unless I start drinking again, which I hope to hell I don’t,” he says with a laugh. “I’m not going to start drinking again, that’s for sure. I certainly knew how to celebrate the end of things.”

There’s a slight element of “ah, I wasn’t that bad” when Lightbody discusses his drinking, but clearly things must have been. He says he was a nice drunk, that friends would say he was a funny one and “at least not a pain in the arse”, but it was eventually under a doctor’s orders that he had to bring it to a complete halt.

“I was about to fly to France to see Northern Ireland play in the Euros in 2016,” Lightbody says of the week everything changed.

“The doctor said, ‘You can’t fly, you’re a mess.’ But I still thought about flying . . . like a moron. About a month later I stayed off it. It was June 3, 2016. And I’ve stayed off it since then.”

Not that Lightbody is preachy. Abstaining from alcohol as a rock star has to come with frequent temptations. Maintaining his new lifestyle is a daily battle, one he starts each morning with yoga and meditation. He counts an acupuncturist friend, Gabrielle, “a Jedi”, as his saviour. Heal Me is dedicated to his pal, who he says cured him of many ailments. Like many people who suffer with mental health issues, if he doesn’t keep on top of things, shadows can re-emerge.

During time away from the band, Lightbody and McDaid began some high-profile co-writing and producing relationships with other stars. They have worked extensively with Ed Sheeran, and Lightbody is astonished at Sheeran’s ability to maintain his levels of normality with the height of fame he has reached. Having known Sheeran since the singer was 19, Snow Patrol are part of a tight-knit group that Sheeran trusts and keeps at his side. For the singer, who recently played a series of gigs to more than 400,000 Irish fans, to not have turned into some sort of monstrous diva is, Lightbody reckons, pretty remarkable.

“We are not even [in] the same universe as what Ed is living in terms of fame, but he deals with it very well and very smartly, and protects himself when he needs to be protected,” says Lightbody.

“He’s not really been affected and there’s not even an atom’s worth of diva in him. It’s an extraordinary thing to have that level of fame and not to be affected by it.”

Sheeran’s tendency to collaborate with songwriters such as Lightbody is not because of any inability to write his own music, but because of the sense of camaraderie that comes with it.

“His writing is extraordinary, great songs just pour out of him,” says Lightbody.

“I’ve been in the room many times writing with him and it just flows. The great solo artist really just needs people to bounce ideas off. It’s not a matter of not being able to write songs themselves. Ed could write them all on his own.”

Snow Patrol, meanwhile, are due to play a number of European tour dates after memorable comeback performances in Derry, Belfast, Dublin, Cork and Killarney last month. The performance in Derry was particularly poignant for the band, because the guest list consisted of 100 members of their family and friends. Emotions were also heightened because Scott Hutchison of Frightened Rabbit had just died. In a social media post, Lightbody hailed Hutchinson as “one of Scotland’s most extraordinary songwriters. He wrote with such profound insight into loss and longing and listening to his words always made me feel this heady mix of wonder, elation and pain. I just wish he knew what he meant to so many”. Snow Patrol’s warm welcome back from their fans should, equally, go some way towards showing Lightbody what his songwriting has meant to so many.

“Everything seemed to mean more that night,” says Lightbody of the Derry performance.

“I had gone through my own mental health problems, I’m singing Don’t Give In and I’m thinking about my family, and I’m thinking about Scott and the people that he left behind. It took on a deeper meaning and I guess that’s the power of music, really, it can hit you in ways that you can’t even imagine.”

Having made the decision to move home from LA in recent years, the singer seems at peace at home in Northern Ireland. His family live with him and, as well as getting to spend time with his father, he says he is enjoying watching his 11-year-old niece growing up.

“I think I just finally realised what’s truly important”. Wildness is out now. Snow Patrol play the 3Arena, Dublin, on December 11

#snow patrol #gary lightbody #The Irish Times #article #interview

[polyrolemodels]

Shannon Ouellette

1. How long have you been polyamorous or been practicing polyamory?

As a teenager I remember wishing it was like the Archie comics where Veronica and Betty dated Archie, Reggie and others. I felt frustrated that attempts at casual dating resulted in slut shaming and social isolation. My husband and I have been together for nearly 27 years and throughout my marriage I struggled with the constraints of monogamy. Four years ago I read Sex at Dawn by Cacilda Jetha and Christopher Ryan and realized the only reason I was monogamous was because I did not know that I could be anything else and still have a healthy and functioning relationship. Knowing that others had a different relationship model was revelatory. I initiated a conversation with my husband and he was as interested in the idea of opening up our relationship as I was.

2. What does your relationship dynamic look like?

I began with some vague idea of open marriage thinking that my relationships would be compartmentalized away from my rural community and my 10 year old and 22 year old children. But before dating I found the concept of polyamory and I knew this aligned with my values. I inherently understood I would not be able to treat people as disposable. I quickly understood my partner/s needed to have say in the relationship. My husband and I had a strong need for personal autonomy. This set the ground work for a non-hierarchal poly structure.

I currently have two relationships. My husband works in Africa and my life partner is in the UK, and I am in rural Canada so I consider my relationships both long distance. My husband is polyamorous and has a girlfriend who lives with us but who I am not sexually or romantically involved with. My husband’s girlfriend is polyamorous and she has a boyfriend who is also polyamorous. Our relationships are all “V’s”

My life partner does not identify as polyamorous. I am committed to him in much the same way as my husband. We have been together for 3.5 years and we met when he was working in Canada. He was recalled but for over two years we have made it work by travelling back and forth to see each other. Although we do not mingle finances, we do have our futures planned, and we make life decisions together. We also plan to live together when he is ready to retire and I am done raising my youngest child in 4 years. I did live with him in England for 4.5 months, taking my youngest child with me and homeschooling her. This really helped cement our relationship.

Within our polycule each person has personal autonomy. Individuals can choose to be open or closed to new relationships at their discretion. Each person has the right to structure their relationships with others as they see fit. I do not need my partners to practise the same poly as me. I do not need the people in my polycule to practise polyamory like me. I think that people have the right and responsibility to identify and ask for what they want and need, and that everything is negotiated. Relationships succeed or fail based on compatibility, and they shift, evolve and transition all the time. My poly is constantly evolving and as such I identify closely with Louisa Leontiades description of Relationship Fluidity, with its three principles of Inclusivity, Humanity, and Integrity.

3. What aspects of Polyamory do you excel at?

I have above average skills at navigating and managing relationships. I have a background in counselling and deep interest in psychology, relationship functioning, and self-improvement. I am a tenacious relationship problem solver and a constant researcher who not only is learning new techniques and skills, I pass them on. Although everyone in our polycule is always working hard, I have a natural aptitude and skill for communication, negotiating, and mediating. I have some insight into my own issues and I am always actively addressing them, so that I can be a better partner. I am a social creature who is exceptionally collaborative.

4. What aspects of polyamory do you struggle with?

Being polyamorous in a mono-normative world, is not always easy. I choose to live openly and the constant potential for rejection and blowback is hard on the heart. The absolute hardest part of being polyamorous has been the loss of relationship with our families and many of our friends. People who loved me and spent time with me suddenly believed I lacked judgement and they questioned my ability to be a good mother. Many disapproved so much they chose to end our relationships. Some of these relationships I grieve, others needed to be ended. Every relationship was impacted, altered, or changed and I had a great deal of emotional upheaval to process.

5. How do you address or overcome those struggles?

I had to learn to accept that a life lived differently is always going to challenge others, and I had to accept that was the path I was on. I had to choose between comfort and courage. I had to decide to unapologetically claim the life I wanted, or to return to spending my life pleasing others.

I had to really get comfortable with my choice to be polyamorous. I looked for mentors, and models of success, and I learned. My education continues. Books, blogs, podcasts, workshops, discussions groups, Facebook groups, a nearby poly community, have all been affirming. I also have a wonderful therapist who is a tremendous source of support.

6. In terms of risk/aware/safer sex, what do you and your partners do to protect one another?

I struggle with answering this question. It isn’t a matter of personal privacy. If I didn’t want to share I would just say none of your business, or I’d prefer not to discuss.

I am very comfortable sharing personal information, even of a sexual nature. I don’t mind disclosing that I personally get tested regularly, and that testing regime depends on the sexual behaviors of my partners, and their partners. It also depends on the willingness of everyone else to get tested, share test results, and talk openly and honestly about the activities and number of partners they have. I ask questions of my partners, about their sexual hygiene practises and those of their partners and I also ask that information be shared so everyone understands the level of sexual activity and fluid bonding that people are engaging in to make informed decisions. I think if we can’t talk openly about it, we lack the maturity to do it.

So what is my issue with this question? I would like to ask why this information is relevant. If one was doing a blog about First Nations role models, or gay role models, or female role models I don’t think this question would be asked or considered appropriate. I don’t like the message the presence of this question sends. Too often, polyamory is seen as all about the sex. Having us lead with information as poly role models with our sexual hygiene practices shifts the focus on to the sex.

As poly people I don’t think we have to lead with this information, to reassure ourselves or others that we are being “good” and “safe” polyamorous people. I think it feeds into mono-normative and sex negative cultures that would shame us and have us believe our relationship model is inherently risk prone to STI’s. I know poly people whose sexual hygiene practises are exceptional, requiring a strict and frequent testing regime, along with use of dental dams or condoms for all sexual contact, including oral sex and even digital penetration. I know people who identify as monogamous but have way more partners, and can’t be bothered with condoms.

7. What was the worst mistake you have ever made in your polyamorous history and how did you rebound from that?

I think the worst mistake I made was not educating myself about the coming out process. As a result I came out before I felt certain and comfortable with my choice. I was defensive, insecure, and a bit apologetic. While I expected a range of reactions I did not expect the phenomenon of people being initially accepting and then rejecting, shortly thereafter. I lost most of my family and many friends. I think if I had been more confident people wouldn’t have felt comfortable venting their moral superiority. If I had been more empathetic, patient, and willing to let people be upset and gave more time to come to terms, some of these relationships may have been salvaged.

8. What self-identities are important to you? How do you feel like being polyamorous intersects with or affects these identities?

I do describe myself as a polyamorous woman. I am a wife to one man and a life partner to another. I am a mother to one teenaged daughter and one married daughter. I live in a conservative, rural community which has been surprisingly calm about our openly polyamorous relationship.

I am involved with, and I am passionate about participating in polyamorous communities and discussions. I am a writer. I am a university student who has a goal of becoming a therapist specializing in supporting polyamorous relationships. I definitely define myself as a feminist, because control over my body, my choices, and my sexuality are all incredibly important to me.

I am also Metis which is a mixture of European ancestry (Scottish, English, Irish, and French) along with First Nations. My tribe are the Cree. The aboriginal side of my ancestry historically had a much more accepting view of sexuality. Women definitely retained the ability to select partners with less social stigma both inside and outside of marriage. I am Canadian which means that I have greater legal protection than many polyamorous people around the world. (All this means is that polyamory is not a basis for my children to be removed from my home).

Bonus: Do you have any groups, projects, websites, blogs, etc. that you are involved with that you would like to promote?

I am a partner in a business called Mindful Hedonism which will offer relationship coaching, along with polyamory education and awareness in our local area. We are just in the beginning stages of development. You can visit us at www.MindfulHedonism.ca Mindful Hedonism @ Facebook and Tumblr and you can follow us on Twitter @mindfulpleasure.

__

Support Inclusive Polyamorous Representation at  https://www.patreon.com/PolyRoleModels

#polyamory #feminism #metis #first nations #cree

[theconservativebrief]

The first 24-hour Krispy Kreme in Ireland opened its doors on September 26, but unfortunately for doughnut-eating Irish night owls, its initial premise proved faulty within just a week. The following Wednesday, Krispy Kreme announced that the all-night shop would now close at 11:30 pm, demoting it to just a regular ol’ doughnut store.

The culprit was the same as it always is: Too many people were lured by a tantalizing idea that the promise-makers couldn’t, for a variety of reasons, fulfill.

In Krispy Kreme’s case, that meant a line of hundreds of honking cars in the wee-est hours of the morning, disturbing neighbors and causing huge traffic jams. But it’s a story that has replayed again and again over the past few years: A limited-edition product, a free event, or a huge sale sounds a little bit too good to be true on the internet and, of course, ends up being exactly that.

I have spent literal years of my life thinking about — and contributing to — this phenomenon. For about a year and a half, my job was to write listings for free and cheap family-friendly events for a New York City kid’s magazine. More specifically, my job was to make these two-sentence descriptions sound as fun and exciting as possible without straight-up lying about what parents and kids would actually find when they got there.

This led to a lot of vague phrases like “hands-on activities!” and “music, performances, and food trucks!” that didn’t totally capture the reality of the only two possible situations. The first is that these “hands-on activities” and “performances” would be extraordinarily dull and not worth leaving the house for. The second is that even if they were free and decidedly non-lame, it still wouldn’t be worth the ridiculously long wait times, brutal crowds, and general feeling of total dehumanization that anything with the word “festival” can bring. (Fun fact: you can slap the word “festival” on literally any event with more than one thing to do!) It wasn’t uncommon for us to receive emails from angry parents complaining about a too-crowded or otherwise disappointing day.

My next job was the opposite: I’d scope out sample sales and report on whether they were worth waiting in the multi-block lines. Almost always, my personal answer was, “Uh, no???” but this kind of lazy reporting was, unfortunately, frowned upon. So instead, as fashion writers are wont to do, I described many pieces of clothing as “worth” buying when in fact I had no intention of doing so myself.

i come home to ireland for the first time in months and the whole country is at a standstill over a krispy kreme

— The Chronic Project (@TheNapKween) October 3, 2018

Both experiences have instilled in me a deep skepticism about any kind of buzzy event or sale, to the point where I have a deep mistrust of anything with the words “food festival” or “sale” in it. But I think more people should have that, too.

Because over the past few years, there’ve been tons of examples of overhyped and ultimately disappointing events, and almost always, social media is to blame. It isn’t just that the internet makes it easy for us to stumble upon fun-sounding experiences and then share them with our friends — it’s that there’s now a social media ecosystem that makes real money off hyperbolizing what you’ll find when you go to them. Essentially, whole brands and publishers are built on causing you FOMO.

When Build-a-Bear Workshop held its “Pay Your Age Day” sale on July 12, thousands of shoppers across the US, Canada, and the UK lined up outside stores hours before opening, hoping for a chance to stuff and buy an animal for only the cost of their child’s age.

Build-a-Bear, however, was woefully unprepared. Most stores cut off lines by mid-morning, though some shoppers claimed that even if they arrived early enough, the barrage of crowds forced them to wait hours. Others said that despite their early arrivals, they were turned away and told to come back later, only to find that the store had already closed.

The fiasco may not have happened had Build-a-Bear been able to gauge interest far enough in advance — it had announced the sale just three days before it went down, and the event was quickly covered by national news outlets.

In a similar case, McDonald’s attempted to capitalize on a joke from the popular animated comedy Rick & Morty by rereleasing its Szechuan sauce, but ended up revealing how toxic some corners of the fandom could be. When it turned out that McDonald’s had either barely stocked the sauce or failed to tell some stores the promotion was even happening, thousands of angry fans protested outside stores and wreaked havoc inside them. On social media, others proposed boycotts or filing a class-action lawsuit against McDonald’s, which distributed so few packets of the sauce that, due to supply and demand, one woman was able to trade hers for a car.

As Vox wrote at the time, “McDonald’s made the classic mistake of a corporation that suddenly finds itself engaging with a large fandom: When fans began to interact with its branding, it signed up for the free publicity and easy marketing, but didn’t do the work of understanding just what kind of fandom it had on its hands.”

The peculiarities of the Rick & Morty subculture surely had something to do with the level of vitriol expressed toward McDonald’s. But the blame is also on the way McDonald’s teased and winked at fans in its advertisements: It knew the Szechuan sauce was an item that customers desperately wanted, and it failed to deliver.

And the biggest, most prevailing example of this kind of failure is the food festival. The idea of a free or low-cost never-ending feast, spread out over a maze of stalls with different cuisines, satiating every possible sort of person, and all attendees leaving happy and perhaps even culturally fulfilled, is generally far too enticing to ever reach its Platonic ideal. But because people keep organizing them, other people keep buying tickets.

In September 2014, the organizers behind the massively popular outdoor food market Smorgasburg attempted to arrange a one-time-only night market inside Central Park, to much fanfare. Though the event, which was to include food, drinks, DJs, and dancing, was scheduled to run from 5 to 9 pm, by around 6 o’clock, police had to turn hundreds of people away, which ended up resulting in tons of leftover food.

But it shouldn’t have been a surprise, really. Two years earlier, a similar fiasco occurred when the organizers of Bonnaroo attempted a giant food festival and concert in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park. It would be called the Great GoogaMooga and would be free to enter with registry, though attendees could also purchase $250 VIP tickets that promised exclusive viewing, attendance to culinary seminars, cocktail demos, and wine and beer tastings.

A GoogaMooga worker holds a sign as festivalgoers wait in line for food. Mike Lawrie/Getty Images

Though the festival ended up making headlines for its absurdly long wait times, technical payment issues, and the fact that beer and wine reportedly ran out by 3 pm, it wasn’t much better for the VIP customers. A Gothamist piece headlined “$250 VIP GoogaMooga Tickets: You Would’ve Gotten More Full Eating the Money” described some folks waiting “15 minutes for a bite of a mortadella hot dog and another 15 for a single piece of beef with some corn,” and zero vegetarian options to speak of. The VIP section eventually ran out of food entirely, leaving attendees to watch celebrity panelists like David Chang and James Murphy eat delicious food while they couldn’t.

These two are far from the only disappointing food festivals. If recent memory serves, most of them end up being a disaster on some level: There was the “unlimited” cheese festival in London whose cheese selection was in fact very limited, the African food fest with a measly two vendors, the “drunken hellscape” that was BrunchCon, the pizza festival that was such a scam that it ended up being investigated by the attorney general, and, uh, that other one.

Though food festivals that don’t live up to the hype and sales that get out of control are two different beasts, they share some important commonalities. The first is that both of them hinge on brands and organizers promising something they can’t always deliver. Build-a-Bear and McDonald’s may have had the tools and staffing to follow through on their promotions for some customers, but both failed to take into account the rest of the equation, which is that a massive number of people wanted to take advantage of them at the same time.

Very sad slices of pizza from September 2017’s disastrous New York City Pizza Festival. Facebook

The same goes for events — GoogaMooga may have been a lovely experience for all if only fewer people had shown up (but in that case, organizers knew exactly how many people had registered, and had no excuse not to be prepared).

Part of this is obviously due to how social media is able to spread information much, much faster than it ever has in the past. When Build-a-Bear announced its Pay Your Age sale on Facebook, the post was shared by nearly 20,000 people, exposing it to huge swaths of potential customers.

And thanks to Facebook’s events feature, an event that’s labeled “food night market” or “ultimate cheese festival” can travel enormous distances. When users click the “Interested” button on events that are set to public, that event will then show up on their friends’ timelines, so that even if neither party ends up actually attending, everyone involved will still be aware of its existence. Plus, it’s so simple to create a public Facebook event that even if said “food night market” has zero proof of its quality or viability, people are made to assume that it’s legit because it looks exactly the same as the superior ones.

But the other problem the internet poses, besides simply allowing more eyeballs on events, is that there are an increasing number of brands and publications whose businesses depend on getting you excited about going to them. There are the kinds of local magazines and blogs where I’ve spent years writing this kind of content. But in the past few years, there’s also been the ascent of Facebook video creators like Insider, Refinery29’s RSVP series, and BuzzFeed’s BringMe, which traffic in getting users hyped to visit a certain place or attend a specific event.

“This Cheese Festival Could Be Coming to a Place Near You Soon,” reads the title of one video by one of Facebook’s largest publishers, the viral content site LadBible. The video itself is the same kind of mobile-friendly, simple text-on-screen stuff you’ll see on any Facebook feed, and none of the footage is original — mostly it’s close-ups of different kinds of cheese and an aerial view of the festival, all provided by Cheese Fest UK. But it didn’t need to be any more complicated than that: All viewers needed to know was that there was a cheese festival possibly coming to a place near them soon. As of now, the video has 13 million views.

But when the actual Cheese Fest UK landed in Brighton last August, the event devolved into hour-long lines, cheese shortages, and expensive prices, and Cheese Fest was eventually forced to apologize.

Essentially, there’s an entire economy within social media that trades off people’s FOMO. And in order for these videos, posts, or events to go viral, they require organizers and publishers to hyperbolize as much as possible, without any real concern for what customers can actually expect to get for their time and money.

But until social media engagement and virality aren’t important markers of brands’ and publishers’ success, it’s not likely that we’ll see the tale of the overhyped and underwhelming event end anytime soon. The only thing we can do, really, is take our 10 million–view videos about rosé-soaked pool parties with a hearty dose of skepticism. Or just do what I do and avoid them all entirely.

Original Source -> The internet helps cheap, fun events spread faster than ever. It’s also totally ruined them.

via The Conservative Brief

#IFTTT #The Conservative Brief

[nathjonesey-75]

Last Year, Vintages and Resolve

Twenty-five years ago, Bjork’s first album; Debut – made a huge statement in its first song, “Human Behaviour”. The first lines spoke:

                                   “If you ever get close to a human                                    And human behaviour                                    Be ready, be ready to get confused

                                   There's definitely, definitely, definitely no logic                                    To human behaviour                                    But yet so, yet so irresistible

                                   And there’s no map…”

Whilst I began writing this a few weeks ago, on holiday - as a personal review of 2017, the refreshing of mind, the starting of a new year and inadvertent reflections as usual - bolster the topics to be covered. Bjork happened to come in a brainwave which fits in to the last year’s many incidents. Hear me out.

Thinking back to 1993 – twenty-five years ago - and when I bought the album, thinking what kind of year it was. I was experiencing real bereavement for the first time as my grandfather and other close relatives from my his (my mother’s) side of the family, were lost. My father first experienced the depths of mental health issues clashing with work, forcing him to retire from his headmaster’s position. I was supposedly sitting important exams, which had to be retaken. At the same time, I broke through into the Welsh Schools U-18 Rugby Union squad. Llanelli RFC were arguably the best rugby club in Britain at the time, having won the league and cup double, before the European Cup was introduced. Liverpool FC was still recovering from the highs of the 1980s and the low of Hillsborough. I also began learning the guitar. Still a kid, wanting to leave a small town and see the world. Master Naïve, esq at your service.

The human behaviour analogy clicked into the same gear as my first ideas of how we humans like to peculiarly categorise things for reference purposes. Music and arts are sorted into genres. Wine into grape and year. OK… I’m already listing my priorities in life, but there is a point, as I will focus primarily upon wines and how they are recognised by their makers; as well as connoisseurs for the quality of year.

For anybody who wouldn’t understand the term “a good year” in wine terms – this directs the drinker or buyer into knowing the climate of that year and its effect on wine standards and grape fermentation. In my-almost five years of life in Australia, I know 2013 was a good year for making Cabernet Sauvignon (my preferred red), as it is a dry climate red wine. During that year, the grapes in the dryer areas ripened on a long summer of high temperatures,creating a great selection of wines of this grape from certain regions in Australia.

So when people reflect upon years in the same way – personal years – the climate of mood and high - or low temperatures; of happenings and incidents in lives along with health, as we get older – will dictate to our recall whether it was a good year, a passable year; a bad year, or a “this wine is vile plonk, waiter” – kind of year. When Bjork’s Debut first arrived, all I knew of wine was that France was supposedly la crème de la crème of making it, having only travelled as far as France, Germany and Cyprus in my then - eighteen years. The only wines which pubs in small town Wales near me served in those days – were the lavish choices of….red and… white.

While the vast majority of friends, acquaintances and public writers would agree that 2016 was like a sour, flat, out-of-date Echo Falls red; this past twelve months since the “year of grand obituaries” – has not been short of incidents. Moving into January 2017 I felt a necessary steely resolve, not only within myself to face the world head-on, but by the sensitive wider public in the face of political adversity and solidarity i.e. terrorism, the rise of the far right, dumb voting and megalomaniac buffoon “leaders” (easier to narrow down the worst ones by their own anti-title).

It’s an encourangement that this was the approach and long may it continue. For my own personal year was packed with more and more corners to turn than New Zealand’s mountainous, indirect roads. Spectacular views along the way, yet flabbergastingly ongoing for such short distances. It was as much a relief as it was a shuddering shock at point of diagnosis in March; to learn that I have had deteriorating osteoarthritis in my left hip for over fifteen years.  Knowing where exactly it happened (as it was intensely painful at the time), nearly eighteen years ago – and that a guy with whom I played football as a kid – did it maliciously, causing gradual physical damage to me since then was the hardest part to swallow. Still, I don’t have to look like an overweight carthorse on the rugby masters pitches any more (wink-wink, nudge-nudge, say no more ;) ).

It was a year of beginnings, sporting highs; tragedy and heartbreak; along with the steadiest of professional change progress through learning. Returning to work in a previous capacity was good, despite a gratuitous office ogre choosing to make daily life a little hairy.  Seeing my beloved Scarlets return to champion material has been a long time coming, but oh, so sweet. The British and Irish Lions also gave me great pride in July, as did Melbourne Storm in October (and throughout the season), living in very unhomely sport territory. Losing a dear friend to bowel cancer – a young mother of thirty and wife of a dear, close friend was almost as heartbreaking and awakening as the sheer time-stopping revelation itself, when it happened. Living on the other side of the world in that instance is such an indigestible matter. If there is no logic to human behaviour, then there is as little in such demons as cancer or depression. You are missed, Jas.

I have, in recent years wanted to play more of a part in raising awareness and support for my chosen charities, thus this was as biting an invitation as could come. Plus it added to my ethos of 2017 of putting myself out of my comfort zone in order to face fear. In November, I was honoured to raise $2000AUD for beyondblue  - my own drive for mental health awareness – which was shared with Bowel Cancer UK, in memory of Jasmine Penarroja. A taste of how to raise more money next time was a personal highlight. Of course, jumping out of a plane also was, but it’s also a promise to myself that next time will be better and will raise more revenue.

Regarding the whole mental health cause (while again remembering Bjork’s line that there’s “no logic to human behaviour”), I can say that my daily, weekly, monthly and long-term management of depression has benefitted. Facing, identifying and managing what is a daily crusade – can be done. Plus sharing stories, communing with others and knowing there is a way; there is a reason for staying alive and there are people who want you alive – not dead – is the message. I am aware to the grass’ roots beneath my feet that to people who struggle worse than I do – it may be easier said than done – but that’s the point of raising awareness and the steely resolve I mentioned earlier. Having a wonderful wife and partner with the patience of an archangel as well as her own tribulations – also helps. So don’t ostracise yourselves from each other, people. While one person’s logic is another’s melange, you can only make it work how ONLY you need it.

Restarting piano lessons after thirty years was a highlight, as was another jump from the comfort zone to perform at a recital. Upon a grand piano. At a church. Oof. Comfort zone well and truly guffed out and almost followed through there. Perhaps the most exciting thing about the last month or so of 2017 was recording DJ sets for Black Sheep Radio, which was set up by some of my expat football mates. I sincerely hope the station will take off in 2018 and that I can contribute to its rise.

The certain flat Lambrini of 2017 being launched into Room 101 will be having three (yes, 3) motor accidents in the last month, after 23 years of none. Fortunately only one occurred on a public road and a freakish, questionable one at that. Not to mention the obtuse, three-interview process which devoured a chunk of me in May, at the same time as Jasmine’s death and starting a new job. Had I been trying for a high-flying financial trophy of a role – I’d have understood the killer late evenings of attendance and best behaviour after work. But for a mediocre salary and to be unsuccessful after (for the sake of gaining more office experience) what can only be described as “mind games” from the CEO can only be categorised as a pretentious, overhyped wine which wasn’t worth the price. I dodged a bullet there.

If I had to judge 2017 in wine terms or another category, it sadly wasn’t a vintage but a staying afloat year, much as was 1993. Certainly, with its uncorking and after giving it time to breathe you could appreciate its qualities in some ways. What it does give the beginning of 2018, is more depth of experience and a tool for sculpting the year into a hopefully more palatable period of time. After nearly five years on this large land, I can only remind myself that thousands of immigrants who try to experience a better life by moving to a new terrain, by completely adapting to new cultures (or lack of at times) often don’t build their happy homes in a few years. I have no right to demand more, despite frequent headspins about my CV’s content. There is always the option of a return to the original source to hopefully taste the champagne of life again. Yet, after five years here and the grit and resolve of gradual career change and ever-so-steady progress, would a return to - what may by now be - a possibly unfamiliar homeland – be as advisable?

                 “And there’s no map, and the compass wouldn’t help at all”

                            Bjork, Human Behaviour (Debut, 1993)

#2017 #1993 #Life #Depression #Anxiety #Bereavement #Family #bowel cancer #Bjork #SCARLETS #Rugby #Wine #Vintage

[hemcountry]

INTERVIEW: Introducing... Bryce Hitchcock

As well as bringing you news and interviews from all of the biggest names on the country scene today, we here at HEM Country love nothing more than to be able to give you guys a heads-up on artists we feel sure will become the stars of tomorrow, too. One such young lady is Nashville-based singer/songwriter Bryce Hitchcock, who has some ‘live’ dates coming up in Ireland very soon. I had the opportunity to chat with Bryce recently, and here’s how it went.

So, fans of country music in Ireland and the UK, it gives me great pleasure to introduce you to….Bryce Hitchcock!

So, Bryce, you’ve just recently released your new album, ‘I Wonder.’ And what I was wondering is, when it comes to putting your new material out there, handing your songs over to the wider world for whatever kind of judgement or reaction might follow, is that something that makes you excited, or more so nervous? How do you prepare yourself, both as a songwriter, but also just as a person, for that moment when, that’s it…they’re gone…, they’re OUT THERE?!

“I’m always excited to release new music. I don’t think all that much about the judgement in a negative way. When I release a song, it’s already passed my harshest critic.. myself. Everyone will have his/her own opinion but if I make a positive impact on even one person, I’ve done my job. I’m proud of my music but I’m always learning and growing as an artist. The hard part is getting the song completed in a way that represents my original vision. That’s where a great producer like Stuart Gray comes in. He’s awesome to work with because he’s an incredibly talented musician and he respects my vision for the songs. The hardest part in the actual release of the song is making sure the music gets heard by as many people as possible.”

Producer Stuart Gray

Now you’re a singer/songwriter, and you’re based out of Nashville, so there are definitely a couple of big clues there as to the kind of artist you are. And yet, having had the pleasure of already seeing you perform ‘live’ myself, I don’t think either fact mentioned goes anywhere near being enough to give an accurate picture of you. So for anyone who hasn’t heard you yet, how would you, Bryce, describe you, Bryce?

“I love a good story. I try to write songs that tell a story. That’s the Nashville in me. Since I was born in Nashville, I guess I’ll always have a hint of Country but without the twang. Growing up, I listened to every kind of music imaginable from jazz, blues, rock and musical theater. I think all of these genres have had a profound influence on my music style.”

Bryce

When it comes to songs, I have to admit I’m a big titles person myself. The first thing I always do is check out the tracklisting to see what titles catch my eye, and also, of course, what songwriters might be involved in an album. I love some of the titles on ‘I Wonder’, including the title track, but also Backspin, My Muse, and Stardust. But tell me, how does your songwriting process normally work; does your title come first and everything follows from there? Do you write lyrics and music at the same time, or does one tend to follow after the other? How does the ‘magic’ happen for you?

“Usually I have a concept for a song based on something I’ve watched on TV or in a movie. I binge watch a lot of Netflix! Other concepts come from observing people around me and some are my own life experiences. In general, I have a concept, write lyrics and then the music. Sometimes, it all comes to me at once. Occasionally, I will have a melody in my head that I write to.”

Bryce

There’s a strong Irish connection to ‘I Wonder’, too, isn’t there. You worked on this album with a very talented chap we’re both lucky enough to know, the one and only Stuart Gray : )

So how did you guys meet up in the first place, Bryce? And what made you want to work with Stuart here in Ireland, as opposed to recording at home in Nashville? Because that’s where so many artists from this side of the world dream of recording someday.

“Yes. Stuart is amazing. He produced my album and prior to that an EP called ‘Clear.’ I met Stuart through Phin Daly, a friend of mine in Nashville who is a manager. He met Stuart through some other artists that he worked with and knew that I was looking for something different and that I love to travel. There are some great producers in Nashville and I have lots of connections there, but the thing I love about coming to Ireland is that I can focus on just music. There are no distractions. Your lifestyle is much simpler in Ireland and the vibe is much more laid back.”

Bryce in Ireland last year.

Speaking of Nashville, one of your good friends there, Summer Overstreet – herself a very talented songwriter too – is the daughter of songwriting great Paul Overstreet, an N.S.A.I. Hall of Famer, two-time Grammy winner, and a five-time recipient of BMI Songwriter of the Year awards. How much of an influence on you as a songwriter was growing up in a town like Nashville, where music is built into the fabric of almost everything that happens, and songwriting is the ‘day-job’ for so many, and the dream-job for so many more? “Summer is a very talented songwriter and such a lovely person. We wrote Bandaid together and it’s one of my favorite songs I’ve ever worked on. The whole family is amazingly talented. Her brother Nash and I have written a couple of songs together – Tango and Not Let Go, and he produced one of my EPs. Her other brother, Chord, was on the TV show Glee and has just signed as a solo artist.”

I love the quote on your Facebook page; “Stay true to your own nature. If you like to do things in a slow and steady way, don’t let others make you feel as if you have to race. If you enjoy depth, don’t force yourself to seek breadth.” It sounds very much like a lesson someone much older than yourself might want to share after learning this truth the hard way, but I think it indicates a maturity and a confidence in your writing, and probably in you as a person, that belies your youth. If I’m right, what is it that gives you that sense of strength, of knowing yourself so well?

“Unfortunately, we live in a social media soundbite world now. There is so much social pressure on people to look like the photos on Instagram, [or] to be “interesting”, to constantly have to say where we are, [and] what we like, [and] where we stand on issues, [and] what group we fit into. Nothing is private anymore. I don’t let it rule me. The song Wildflower on my new album also speaks to who I am as a person and not just how I am perceived. My parents have always said that I don’t need to be concerned about whether I make them happy with my choices, but that I can live with those choices myself.”

Bryce

We’ve already mentioned the fact that you’re a singer/songwriter, that you’re based in Nashville, and, as anyone can see from your photos, you have a beautiful, natural, contemporary but approachable style about you. So the first person to come to mind if most people were to consider co-writing partners for you, probably wouldn’t be Tom Petersson from Cheap Trick! And yet….!! So how did you guys meet up? And also, do you find that you tend to learn something different or new from everyone you write with? And if so, what did you learn from working with Tom?

“Funny! Living in Nashville is certainly not boring. You never know who you will be eating dinner next to in a restaurant, or with whom you will be going to church or school. In the case of Tom Petersson, we have the same entertainment attorney. I was selected to play a showcase in Nashville for NAMM. I had briefly met Tom and his family prior to the event. Tom and a group of my friends came out to support me. Our families became good friends and one day I was at their house with my mom and Tom and I decided to write a song. We went into his home studio and came out with “Be My Memory”. We both really liked it and Tom produced the song for me shortly after that. He’s so incredibly talented and one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. He’s so genuine and funny. There is always so much to learn from artists who have been at this longer than myself. He has so many years of experience and the stories are great!! One thing that I take away from my time with Tom is to understand what a privilege it is to be included in this diverse, talented group of people.”

Bryce and Tom

For anyone just discovering you for the first time, there sure is a lot to find out about! : ) Not only are you a singer, and a songwriter, and of course a really talented guitarist as well, but you’re also an actress! And you’ve done some pretty cool voice work, which means some people might actually know you already, but in a way they wouldn’t perhaps expect to. ~ How did all of those sides of your professional life get started?

“My mom was a costumer for a lot of local theater productions. I hung around with her a lot on set. I loved being around all of the talented, creative people. I guess you could say I caught the bug for acting and performing. I did a play that broadcast on a local TV station. When I saw myself, then 6 years old, I said to my mom “Don’t you just live for this kind of thing?”. She said “What?”. I responded “Being on TV!”. She knew she was in trouble. She said if you want to do more I will ask around. I signed with a talent agent, worked on my acting and voiceover skills and booked work in the Nashville area. Later, we went out to Los Angeles and I worked a lot of really fun jobs. When I was 13, I started really growing tall. I was taller than a lot of the actresses that play moms on TV and in film. That’s when I started really writing music. I was also fortunate to book quite a few voiceover jobs. I worked for Disney, Honda, Clear Station, Sea World and many others. My most known job was as Deuce for the Final Fantasy Type-0 HD video game.”

Bryce performing in Ireland in 2016

Last question for now, Bryce : ) You have a song called Happy Being Me, and it has the most brilliant video to go along with! I love that video, and I love that song! And when I’m telling people about you, I can’t help but point them in that direction! Tell me about how the whole idea for the Happy Being Me video came about?

“I’ve always liked writing sad songs. My grandmother was a little worried about me [laughs]. I’m a happy person. I’m happy with who I am. I wrote that song when I was 13 years old and it still stands today. I embrace my quirks and idiosyncrasies because they are what make me.. me. I have performed that song for young children to encourage them to feel good about what makes them different. How boring would this world be if everyone was the same???”

For more info on Bryce check out brycehitchcock.com. Also catch Bryce live in Ireland, dates below.

20th May, Birr Theatre & Arts Centre, Offaly 

21st May, The Workman’s Club, Dublin

  INTERVIEW: Introducing… Bryce Hitchcock was originally published on HEM COUNTRY

#Bryce Hitchcock #Country Music #Country Music News #Introducing #Irish Tour #countrymusic #countrynews. IrishCountry #UKCountry