A Complete Explanation Of Everything

Disbelief.

Keith (<- See Music Part 2) couldn't take it in. He'd just booked us to play as a strictly comedy entrant at some country festival in the back arse of nowhere.

But no, I gotten tired of our strictly amateur hour efforts and had begun keenly screening the musicians classified ads at the back of the music magazines. I was only 17 at the time, I was in college and not legal for drinking in this country (18 being the age) so my life was complicated on many fronts.

Anyway, I made the calls and suddenly I was meeting this female drummer at the front of Kevin Street to listen to a tape. The band was called Gigantic and were named and principally inspired by The Pixies, it was all lost on me at the time I'm afraid, my musical education was taking off though and a year down the line I would have been sufficiently versed. We went and jammed it out one night down in Apple Rock studios beside the North Star Hotel. Dingy, cold grey night in October / November as I recall, it went ok but the message coming back was you're too young mate.

Undeterred, I carried on and on a visit to Musicmaker (one of the only two genuinely decent music shops in Dublin in the late 90s) I spied a notice upon my exit. It was an impassioned plea, crying out for real commitment to actually getting a project up and running. There was something in it, the neat scrawl, that got to me. I'm not sure if influences were mentioned but if they were it would have been benign sort of stuff. Maybe U2, Beatles, that kinda thing.

Anyway I called and next thing I had Peter in my life. And Karl. And Crumlin. And a circuitous bus route.

Crumlin is a long way from where I lived, and less than salubrious. It's probably a pretty decent area these days but back then it was regarded as bandit country as much as Crumlin people used to think of my part of Dublin as bandit country. Anyway, Peter was the singer and Karl would play lead guitar, with myself backing up on bass. At least that was the plan, one thing Peter had about him was drive. A desire to get things done, he certainly wasn't talented that's for damn sure but he was passionate about actually being in a band and not in the let's sit around and do nothing type of way, his enthusiasm was infectious. Later, I would be bouncing around Dublin, thrusting demos at bewildered bar owners, carried away by it all.

Neil arrived next. Neil was a workmate of Peter and was on vacation from his metal band.

So, we had Peter, a lead singer with a very short range, Karl, a genuine guy but he genuinely could not be described as a lead guitarist, certainly not for the stuff we were setting out to do and then Neil. Neil's a solid enough drummer, always has been but in those early days one or two of the fills might not have been quite on the money. And then me, on bass.

We had an innocent month or so of rehearsals and songwriting. Well, they were Peter's songs and they were essentially written. We had a month of myself and Neil grinning and bearing some songs, refining others and trying our damnedest to put a little bit more into the band. We also took the time to name ourselves, over a cup of tea in Peter's kitchen, listening to terrible tape recordings of sessions.

The Gents? Did I suggest that at the time? I think I did. I stand by it, I think it's a good name. Anyway, we ended up with The Panic. Which was ok, it was a live with it sort of name.

So, we had a name, the 4 piece and a bunch of tunes. Working out the setlist was a laugh. Great fun, I managed to get Peter to side with me on the suggestion that you always play your best song second and your second best song first. We agreed on that but things weren't altogether rosy in the garden. And we were rehearsing in the garden. Well, his brother's studio bunker apartment at the end of his garden.

Basically, we rubbed each other up the wrong way. Actually, I don't really recall him pissing me off all that much but he couldn't understand my sense of humour really. I don't attack people directly but sometimes my cynical nature can cause sparks to fly, he probably didn't enjoy the odd observation. Karl was silent, save for the regular anecdote of his latest fight at the weekend and Neil would play peacemaker between myself and Peter. Me and Neil were getting on like the proverbial house on fire and were really starting to enjoy the rhythm section. Maybe we were starting to enjoy it a little too much and that's what was grating on Peter.

Anyway to the great night.

We made our debut as support to Madame Blavatsky in Slatterys of Capel Street. A quite famous venue in it's own right, Thin Lizzy played there and a huge mirror Thin Lizzy sign adorned the backstage stair case. There was an actual back stage, a pleasant surprise, I thought that had only been a turn of phrase until that point.

So, we went out played and I really enjoyed it. Everybody seemed to.

We had more gigs booked and things were on the up.

Then, the bombshell. It actually all broke down after our best jam / practice session ever if you ask me. Karl had pissed off early to do something or other, so myself and Neil had persuaded Peter to try knocking on the distortion for once and play something approaching rocking. It was a really good session, by the end myself and Peter had between us knocked out a pretty passable tune. I must see if I can find the lyrics to it somewhere, I still remember the chords.

Anyway, we were packing up, balmy summer evening that it was and some remark hung in the air, left dangling by Peter and I bit. We went at it for a second and it basically boiled down to him saying that I wasn't, perhaps, the right fit for the band and that he, might, be on the look out for someone more in his line. Well, I kinda looked at Neil in disbelief, who was in the process of collecting his jaw from the floor, and I then calmly tendered my resignation.

I picked up my heavy gear about a week later and Neil left shortly after.

Once he got the video of our first gig.

Basically, it boiled down to this, Peter wanted automatons he could control who would play in a certain way, he wanted the band to correspond to each and every one of his exact wishes. It was laughable because the only good thing about The Panic at that time was the rhythm section and that was acknowledged and I think is born out by the fact that the only thing remaining of The Panic today is my friendship with Neil.

Peter had irresistible drive and that's what made me fall into line for a while, hell, they went on to do an audition for V2 records in London.

Suffice to say it didn't work out.

I think Peter's a garda today.

Next time out: Kitten (a very personal EP)