Article

The Sunday Tribune

5 Jan 2003

'The weird and wonderful' by Edel Coffey

They've been dubbed "Wexford's weirdo trio", despite the fact that "only two of us are from Wexford, god-dammit!", and describe their own music as "Oddball Rock". The day I spoke to Dublin-based band Stoat they were recording a song in a Dublin hotel bar, which had friends and hotel guests alike singing along to the catchy refrain "I wish I was stoned/I wish I was stoned/I wish I was stoned today". Cormac Parle, the band's bassist, was pounding away on a piano and drummer Stephen Whelan was playing a wooden chopping board. "I found it this morning and thought it sounded nice." Parle explained, "we used saucepans the last time and they were just ear-splitting". Welcome to the world of Stoat, a place not unlike the world Alice found down the rabbit hole. A world where all CDs are eponymous and lyrics deal with subjects like putting the children into care, raggy dolls and amputees - and that's just one song.

Stoat guitarist John Hearne compares being in Stoat to being in a dysfunctional relationship - "can't live with him, can't live without him", he says of Parle - but it often verges on the telepathic as well with the two finishing each other's sentences. In fairness, they have been together a long time. "In 1986, " Parle begins, "John worked picking strawberries for the summer and when he was finished he had some money and bought himself a guitar and he started a band with his next door neighbour called Brian. But they needed a bass player."

Hearne picks up the story, "so I heard there was a young man in third year who played the bass. He turned out to be a double bass player." Back to Parle. "There was a little school of music in Wexford and I was the double bass player in their orchestra" - back to Hearne - "but Cormac wanted to be a rock'n'roll star so he grabbed the opportunity with both hands." Parle and Hearne have been together ever since with drummer Stephen Whelan joining in 1999.

Despite, or more likely because of, their reputation as Dublin's oddball rockers, Stoat are building an audience throughout the country. Then again, it might have something to do with their music, which can only be described as indescribable. Their thrid and latest single, 'Acunamanacana', is Pixies revisited, yet look to 'Oh Happy Day' and it's pure Paul McCartney and as catchy as anything he might have written too. "People do seem to go to our gigs and come back again", says Hearne slightly bewildered. "And not just the people you've emotionally blackmailed into coming".

Stoat are a funny band, both as people and as songwriters but, crucially, they avoid making a joke out of themselves in the process. "Just because it's funny doesn't mean it's a joke", says Parle. "We treat it pretty seriously but humour is a good way of getting things across. I don't know if you listen to much Frank Zappa but he sold really complicated avant-garde music to the masses by putting in smutty lyrics and that's exactly what we're doing."

Hearne says, "we've run out of angsty things to say. We did all the angst-ridden stuff when we were teenagers. I realised recently that a lot of the stuff I'm doing is about either death or the GAA, they're constant themes throughout the songs. Many of the songs have drug references but we were never into the lifestyle." Parle interjects, "none of mine have". Hearne reprimands him, "you have a stake in them too Cormac. They're you're children just as much as they are mine." Then he turns to me, "see what I mean about the dysfunctional relationship?"

[em, I hope people don't think our lyrics are smutty after reading this - they're not, what I meant was we try and be funny in order to attract people to our odd music, in a similar way to how Zappa was smutty in order to attract people to his odd music. Ok?]