TV on the Radio frontman and Star Wars actor Tunde Adebimpe delivers a slice of slanted and enchanted indie
Adebimpe, whose varied career includes stop-motion animation and acting (his latest TV gig is Star Wars: Skeleton Crew) is a compelling presence on these 11 songs. The urgent Magnetic, all fuzzy guitars and synths, finds him 'thinking about the human race in the age of tenderness and rage' while the stark, arresting Drop is a beatbox masterclass.
A jaunty giddiness characterises many of the songs, but it is clear that pain is being exorcised. The playful, upbeat stylings of God Knows cannot disguise the fact that he's singing about a relationship that's gone badly awry. 'God knows you're the worst thing I've ever loved/ You're bad news but we've still got to have our fun.'
And, on the tender ballad ILY, he sings about his younger sister who died during the pandemic. It's heartbreaking: 'Tell me that the end is not the end.' Co-written with the album's producer Wilder Zoby — who is probably best known for his collaborations with hip-hop duo Run the Jewels — it's the album's most conventionally structured song, but once heard, difficult to forget.
Unlike TV on the Radio, Beirut are still going, but then that act was all about the talents of Zach Condon rather than a grouping of like-minded subversives. Condon's first couple of (Balkans-inspired) albums coincided with Adebimpe's band's much heralded early run and, despite the odd wobble, he's kept the quality high.
His latest, A Study of Losses, is typically unconventional. Commissioned by a Swedish acrobatic troupe — of all things — it features 11 songs and seven instrumentals. Sophisticated, textured arrangements elevate the likes of Forest Encyclopaedia, which features Condon's sombre, sorrowful singing.
A highlight, Caspian Tiger, has a hymnal quality, a wonderful vocal delivery, and a confluence of strings, artfully arranged by Clarice Jensen, artistic director of the American Contemporary Music Ensemble.
It's an album to get lost in.
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Irish Times
5 days ago
- Irish Times
Learnings from Lehrer: Brendan Balfe on tracking down and interviewing one of his favourite performers
Tom Lehrer asked: 'How did you find me?' It was 1987 and in those pre-internet days, the standard biographical references to the musical satirist all said 'keeps a low profile' and 'notoriously secretive'. But I was planning a trip to the United States for a radio series and was trying to arrange an interview with one of my favourite performers. I hit on an idea. I contacted the Boston telephone operator and eventually got a phone number and through the reverse directory also acquired an address. I wrote to Tom Lehrer and in his reply, he told me to call him when I was in the States, so on September 9th, I turned up at his house in Cambridge, adjacent to the campus of Harvard University , a small wooden building, sparsely furnished, with a grand piano in the living room. Tom had learned piano at an early age and was an accomplished player. His first song, Fight Fiercely, Harvard, was written in 1945 when he was 17, a football song for the college he attended while studying mathematics. Then he wrote and sang more songs for friends at parties. Taking advantage of the invention of long-playing records, in 1953 he paid $400 to record an album of songs. 'Suddenly,' he told me, 'my songs spread like a social disease.' READ MORE When the first British chart of hit albums was issued in 1958, Tom Lehrer was in the top ten for 19 weeks. His songs satirised popular music, politics, nuclear arms and human behaviour. Songs like Poisoning Pigeons in the Park, When you are Old and Grey and The Masochism Tango proved popular. The latter was a skit on slightly threatening love songs like Kiss of Fire and Jezebel. It wasn't specifically Irish, but a reaction to the inanities of folk songs — Tom Lehrer 'There used to be a liberal consensus who agreed with me, [but] now the audience would be split,' he said. 'Now, it's a case of 'don't satirise me, satirise them'. Back then, I was described as sick or accused of being a cynic, an assertion that was untrue. A cynic damns everything, a sceptic questions everything, liking some parts, not others.' I asked him had he anything to say to our audience about his composition The Irish Ballad, with lyrics like: 'About a maid I'll sing a song / who didn't have her family long / not only did she do them wrong / she did every one of them in.' 'Well,' he said, 'it wasn't specifically Irish, but a reaction to the inanities of folk songs and singers who believe those with the most verses win.' On his writing method, he said: 'Some songs are instant and others take months, where I find myself filling in words like a crossword puzzle. Some current stand-up comedians hit topical points and the audience greets them with applause, whoops and cheers. I didn't want them to applaud, I wanted them to laugh. Irreverence is easy – wit is hard." One song raised an element of earthly rather than heavenly irreverence, although deftly aided by adroit rhyming: 'Do whatever steps you want if / You have cleared them with the Pontiff / Everybody say his own / Kyrie eleison / Doin' the Vatican Rag.' [ No one sent up Nazi rocket scientist Wernher von Braun better than satirist Tom Lehrer Opens in new window ] Tom Lehrer retired from singing and performing in 1967. His idea was to perform to audiences and get a good recording of the concert. He thought the material was the important thing, not his personal appearances. 'Just like novelists don't do a tour reading from their own novel, my idea was make the record and go home.' Going home meant going back to the academic life. He had been a graduate student in 1952 working at the Atomic Energy Commission. 'Nuclear power had not yet become dangerous, was viewed as a good thing in some cases,' he recalled. But that changed as the 'superpowers' got more access, prompting some pointed songs, some written for the American version of the TV show That Was The Week That Was . He went back to teaching mathematics at Harvard and at the University of California at Santa Cruz, adding a social science element to his lectures. He also wrote songs for the Children's Television Workshop and was quietly delighted when in 1980, Cameron Mackintosh assembled a stage revue of his songs called Tomfoolery, a musical also staged in Dublin by Noel Pearson. He instigated a course on the American Musical Theatre, forming a cast of 15 students who every week came to the room were sitting in to read and perform an entire musical, like Carousel or Oklahoma. It feels appropriate to return to his first question: 'How did you find me?' Well, I found a charming and astute man with a unique talent for music and language, and a spirited approach to satire that made us all laugh. So long, Tom. Nice to have met you. '
Irish Times
6 days ago
- Irish Times
RTÉ's Liveline listenership dipped by 8,000 before Joe Duffy departed
RTÉ Radio 1's flagship show Liveline has recorded a loss of 8,000 listeners, Joint National Listenership Research (JNLR) figures reveal. This brings its audience to an average of 299,000 per show. The data covers the 12 months to last June, with long-time host Joe Duffy's departure coming at the end of that month. RTÉ Radio 1 is the most popular station in the State, reaching 1.4 million listeners a week, JNLR figures show. Its market share of 35 to 54 year-olds has grown to 14 per cent. But RTÉ 2FM suffered a loss of 37,000 since the last survey. It now reaches 677,000 listeners a week. READ MORE Brendan O'Connor's audience grew by 49,000 listeners on Saturdays since the last survey, taking it to 412,000. His Sunday listenership was up by 40,000 to 409,000. Morning Ireland retained its place as the most listened-to programme on Irish radio. On weekdays, the show dropped 2,000 listeners since the last survey to register an audience of 469,000. Today with Claire Byrne has 354,000 listeners, up 6,000 since the last survey, while Louise Duffy's audience of 219,000 dropped 4,000. News at One recorded an audience of 298,000 – up 1,000 since the last survey. Ray D'Arcy dropped 10,000 to reach 182,000, while Drivetime dropped by 4,000 to a listenership of 217,000. Sunday with Miriam saw an increase of 13,000 to 317,000. 'There has been a particularly strong performance at weekends in this book [of JNLR figures] with gains across the board,' Tara Campbell, head of RTÉ Radio 1, said. 'One of the standout performances has been the Brendan O'Connor Show, which now has a listenership of over 400,000 on both Saturdays and Sundays.' Ms Campbell also paid tribute to Arena presenter Seán Rocks , who died last week following a brief illness . 'It's important today to think of our wonderful colleague, the late Seán Rocks. Seán and his colleagues worked tirelessly to make Arena such an important programme in the schedule, and Seán's family, friends and team remain in our thoughts,' she said. Bauer Media Audio's Today FM has 928,000 weekly listeners, with the station recording a daily reach of 499,000 and a market share of 8.4 per cent. The Ian Dempsey Breakfast Show's audience of 213,000 is up 10,000 since the last survey; Dave Moore is up 5,000 to 198,000; while Ray Foley's audience is recorded at 159,000, an increase of 6,000. Louise Cantillon's listenership also rose by 12,000, bringing her listeners to 119,000. The Last Word with Matt Cooper went up significantly with an 18,000 increase since the last JNLR quarterly report, bringing the show to 181,000. Pat Kenny's show on Newstalk remains the most popular programme on commercial radio, with 216,000 listeners, down 8,000 from the last survey. Andrea Gilligan's Lunchtime Live audience is down 10,000 to 124,000; and Seán Moncrieff's listenership remains stable at 108,000. At the weekend, market share increased for The Anton Savage Show, whose Saturday figures are up 6,000 to 139,000. Off the Ball is up 1,000 to 158,000 on Saturday. A boost of 9,000 since the last survey brings its Sunday audience to 155,000. The JNLR survey, compiled on behalf of the radio industry by research firm Ipsos, shows 3.97 million people listened to the radio every week over the past 12 months.
Irish Times
01-08-2025
- Irish Times
Ryan Tubridy still has the Tiggerish verve and breezy name-drops. So why does it feel sour?
In a world riven by social division and online venom, there's a place where the vibe is unwaveringly upbeat, negativity is determinedly banished and everyone is nice to each other, or to one person at least. So fervently cheerful is the mood on The Ryan Tubridy Show (Q102, weekdays) that it's possible, just for a minute, to forget about troubles roiling the globe and even the payments scandal that saw the host exit RTÉ two years ago this month. Broadcasting from the London studios of Virgin Radio UK, the station he joined in January 2024, Tubridy approaches his late-morning show with Tiggerish verve, bringing an unflagging enthusiasm to the insouciant musings, breezy interviews and industrial-scale namedropping with which he punctuates his soundtrack of indie oldies. The net effect is akin to the opening monologue of his old RTÉ Radio 1 weekday programme being shorn of anything vaguely news-related and spread out over three hours. 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But, taken together with his books podcast and his resurgent visibility in the social pages, the unmistakeable impression is of someone living his very best life. And, you might say, why shouldn't he? Having endured a torrid period of public approbation and political scrutiny following the revelations about RTÉ's controversial payments to him which were not disclosed publicly , Tubridy has come out the other end, if not quite redeemed, then refreshed and relaunched. So why does all this positivity carry a faint backnote of sourness? Tubridy may not have been the cause of RTÉ's need to remunerate presenters so handsomely in a market it dominated. But public outrage at the host's surreptitious top-ups – €150,000 of which hasn't been repaid – contributed to a precipitous drop in licence fees. And while Tubridy can be excused being permanently clad in sackcloth and ashes, his on-air jauntiness comes perilously close to making him sound pleased with himself at a time when his former colleagues face an uncertain future, as does the network that once promoted his career so lavishly. If Tubridy's old home at RTÉ Radio 1 has soldiered on since his departure, it's still grappling with more recent developments. First and foremost, there is the sad and dreadfully premature death of Seán Rocks , the presenter of the long-running arts show Arena, whose passing was announced as this column was going to press. The loss of such a versatile and engaging broadcaster is immense, to radio and the arts, and – most of all – as a warm, smart, friendly human being. [ Seán Rocks, presenter of RTÉ radio's culture show Arena, dies aged 63 Opens in new window ] Meanwhile, Liveline (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) putters on without the retired Joe Duffy , amid conclave-esque levels of speculation and opacity surrounding his successor. In the absence of a permanent replacement, the phone-in show perhaps unavoidably has the feel of an extended audition, with Colm Ó Mongáin currently helming after a fortnight's stint by Philip Boucher-Hayes. Whatever the outcome – Katie Hannon remains the favourite for the post – Ó Mongáin's spell highlights his virtues as a broadcaster while indicating the limits of the Liveline brand without Duffy. Ó Mongáin cuts a likably understated figure, his quietly encouraging manner drawing out stories from callers. 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With the waiting list for specialist residential care paused, he is despondent and angry – 'the HSE effectively expects families to care until they drop' – and even hints that he would see no future for his daughter if he knew he and his wife were dying. Having drawn out the wider ramifications of the story, Ó Mongáin goes into alarm mode, understandably cautioning against any drastic action that would be 'an appalling crime'. Such drama aside, it's yet more bleak testimony from an embattled family feeling let down by the State: Tony stresses that thousands more are in his situation. Not everyone can look on the bright side of life. Moment of the week The eternal question of art versus commerce is dissected on Culture File Presents: The Comfort Zone (Lyric FM, Saturday), the show that has the novelist Colm Tóibín discussing cultural works with its host, Luke Clancy. The pair are joined by the artist Kerry Guinan to examine what Clancy calls 'one of the art world's greatest pranks', the burning of £1 million, in 1994, by the K Foundation, aka the techno-pop act The KLF, aka the anarchic artists Bill Drummond and Jimmy Cauty. Tóibín is slightly aghast, his 'inner social worker' wary of the destruction of sums that could be used elsewhere, while Guinan approves, claiming the act took away the power of money: 'The money is not doing what it's supposed to'. Not that Tóibín is necessarily against incendiary cultural gestures. 'I burned a diary,' he reveals. 'It was pure freedom.' It's a thought-provoking conversation – sparky, even.
