Fionn Regan

Fionn Regan

A bit­ter story leaps from the archives quag­mires / Lamen­ted in lec­tures like bat­tery acid naked / Now the arm rests turn to axes slam­ming on hinges / The front row is reserved for the lun­atic fringes / Down at the gen­o­cide mat­inee” Gen­o­cide matinee

If The End of His­tory was the sound of the coun­tryside with its wood­land lanes, this record is the sound of towns with their dimly lit streets; heart­felt and with a ragged edge. Regan has ploughed him­self a new furrow.

It was dur­ing a period of great global upheaval, whilst tour­ing his debut album for two years world­wide, and in par­tic­u­lar across Amer­ica, as Fionn puts it “see­ing the world, the bone struc­ture, the pulp” that he began work on its fol­low up. It seems nat­ural that his response was to become more out­ward look­ing “as a writer you hold up a mir­ror, its reflec­tions become the work” and in The Shadow of an Empire this mani­fests itself in a col­lec­tion of songs that are peopled with char­ac­ters and con­ver­sa­tional dia­logue. The often witty vign­ettes are used to facil­it­ate more com­plex soul-searching.

On the sub­ject of influ­ence, Fionn describes it as “hard to quantify, I wrote these songs from the page up, on an Olympia port­able, the idea being that the words would stand up on their own. I think the per­cuss­ive nature of typ­ing informed the phras­ing. I was read­ing a lot of Welsh, French and Amer­ican poets, I star­ted to explore Brecht, Maha­gonny in par­tic­u­lar, I have always loved Ker­ouac , then I admire visual artists like Joseph Beuys, Basquiat and Fran­cis Bacon equally. All these people switch the light bulb on, make me con­nect back to my work”

Fionn pro­duced the album him­self (as was the case with the 2007 Mer­cury Prize nom­in­ated The End of His­tory) but the jour­ney to this end wasn’t as straight­for­ward this time around “There was an ini­tial ses­sion for the album with Ethan Johns pro­du­cing I had been hear­ing for some time that he was a fan of my music, and I was a fan of his work too, so there was thread there. We met up, we had a great con­ver­sa­tion and Lost High­way records in the U.S. pro­posed that they would fin­ance an album but when they heard what we were cook­ing up in a barn in Somer­set, it was sug­ges­ted that I relo­cate to Nashville with another pro­du­cer to record some­thing that was more suited to the mar­ket that they oper­ate in. I under­stand they’re in the busi­ness of selling records, but a col­lec­tion of songs tailor-made and pol­ished for play on cer­tain Amer­ican radio formats was not what I had in mind. I believe in order to be faith­ful to your vis­ion you have to roll the dice, so I walked away from it, which meant leav­ing the record­ings I had made with Ethan behind too.”

So Fionn bought him­self a tri­dent desk and a tape machine, set up in a small, dis­used fact­ory space in Co. Wick­low, Ire­land and set about mak­ing the album without inter­fer­ence. “There were no airs or graces about it, we cut live in the room, live vocals the piano had come off a cruise ship and we wheeled it down the road the guy who sold it to us threw a couple of cheap Sil­ver­tone gui­tars and a cir­cus drum into the bar­gain. As far a pro­duc­tion goes I’m very much into keep­ing mis­takes, a crack in the voice, the nat­ural ebb and flow of live drums, so that there’s a sort of evid­ence of the pro­cess I think it’s that atmo­sphere which makes me want to revisit my favour­ite albums again and again”

The new­born in the ham­mock rocks / Below a bolted sky that unlocks / For the depart­ing of the flocks / Far from the shadow of an empire”

Website: Fionn Regan