Northern Lights

By Joe Kavanagh

Last week, saw us cast our eye over the occasionally preposterous decisions that are being made by some of those in the Irish music industry with specific focus on national radio, which, far from helping musicians, has often served to stunt the growth of any kind of viable Irish "scene" capable of punching its weight on a global level. As virtually anyone with a modicum of passing knowledge on Ireland's original music scene will tell you, the talent, diversity and innovation currently being displayed by acts is proof positive of the strongest music scene that the country has ever produced, yet the lack of tangible support from the industry has been nothing short of appalling. As the labels, government and others stand idly by, a generation of decidedly talented acts are dying off due to a lack of support, whether it be logistical, financial or otherwise. Each year, a handful of excellent acts are forced to call it a day not because their music wasn't good enough, but because they have been ignored by an outdated Irish music industry, which is unwilling to "break" acts on a national level. Given its archaic, flaccid makeup and antiquated operating practices, there must be some doubt now as to whether the Irish music industry can recognize good music, or is even capable of breaking bands as it is currently constituted.

It is barely a year since the Northern Ireland Assembly began functioning properly as the seat of centralized government in the north of Ireland and given its troubled history, you would be forgiven for thinking music might not be high on the agenda of issues to discuss in Stormont. You would, however, be wrong. Recent events have already proved that contemporary original music is very much on the political menu. In contrast to the governmental apathy down south, the Northern Assembly has taken an extremely proactive route when it comes to the issue of music, viewing it as central to the identity of those in the province and an essential part of their collective future. Far from the policy of avoidance that comes as second nature to bureaucrats down south when it comes to dealing with musicians, the Northern Assembly has welcomed the opinions of local heroes such as Ash and David Holmes when it comes time to discussing what positions can be taken in public policy to ensure that the rich and storied music tradition associated with the north of Ireland down the millennia will continue to grow and expand.

In February, the movement to place music higher up the on the political wish list was given a huge shot in the arm when, Snow Patrol singer, Gary Lightbody, addressed the assembly at Stormont in February, urging them to throw funding behind a project he is convinced can become the focal point for the development of local talent for generations to come. The Oh Yeah project was initially the brainchild of former NME editor, Stuart Ballie, multimedia mogul, Martin Neill and finance expert, David Matchett, all from the north of Ireland and all huge music fans. Upon enlisting Lightbody's help in 2005, the group subsequently went on to set up their operation in a building known as the 'old Distillery', located in Belfast's Cathedral Quarter, which is fast becoming known as the heart of the city's cultural district. Three stories high and covering almost 15,000 square feet, those behind it hope to make it the focal point for musicians in the north, offering everything from instruction, to recording facilities and a host of other services designed to give acts the greatest chance of survival in a notoriously unforgiving industry. It will also contain a venue of sufficient design and capacity to attract the very best in international acts, with the thinking being that local bands will be given first refusal of support slots with these acts, thus giving them invaluable experience and exposure.

For proof of just how effective such a communal approach can be, one need look no further than Derry, where the Nerve Center has long served as the hub for all things music related in the city and surrounding hinterland. Established in 1990, it was initially little more than a group of musicians, artists and filmmakers who convened with the idea of creating what they would later term a "culture factory". From the initial meetings in local homes and pubs, the group grew as it offered classes in all aspects of the arts, a place to share ideas and a focal point for local artists, musicians and friends, irrespective of your political background, at a time when the Troubles were at their deadly height. From such humble beginnings this truly communal project has grown to the point where it benefits the 100,000-plus people who attend concerts, courses and other events held within the walls of the brand new building it moved into only two years ago. It has become an integral part of the local community and - given its pluralist origins - continues to pave the way, offering classes in cultural awareness and continually striving to make arts an intrinsic element of the local social fabric, often attracting those who would certainly not consider themselves fans of the arts in its traditional sense. It has also served as the catalyst for virtually every musician within 100 miles. While musicians down south strive on their own, or in local cliques, those within striking distance of the Nerve Centre can receive musical instruction (often from renowned musicians), career advice and even get to support their idols, all within its walls. It has become one of the shining beacons on the original Irish music scene.

It seems that the politicians in the north of the country place more of a premium on matters of culture than their colleagues down south. From the Ancient Greeks and Chinese through the Renaissance and Victorian times, nations that have enjoyed periods of prolonged economic prosperity have frequently undergone a commensurate cultural explosion, as their affluence manifested itself through artistic expression. We see no such cultural flowering under the gaze of the Celtic Tiger, however, with music being just one victim of this indifference. What makes this disparity between the north and south all the more difficult to believe is the fact that the Arts Council of Northern Ireland has a budget of just under $20 million while its southern counterpart enjoys a budget over four times that, yet I cannot find a single musician down south that has ever managed to secure so much as a penny in funding from the Irish Arts Council, and, trust me, I have asked. In my own personal dealings with them, I was applying for a grant for which the application had to be in by August 15 last year. When I called up two weeks before the deadline to ensure that I had the application in order and go through a last minute checklist, I was told that the lady who handles that department was on vacation and would not be back until August 20. Such is the insouciance of those with their fingers on the purse strings down south.

In just under a year, the politicians in the north of Ireland have schooled those down south on how to identify a proactive approach to supporting original music. Despite being faced with a range of pressing issues capable of tying up even the most competent of politicians, the leaders of the assembly still saw fit to place music high on their list of priorities. Why? Well, the politicians up north obviously view music as being a central component of culture, and a people without culture travel an empty road with no signposts.