The strypes best thing since cavan review
THE STRYPES – BEST THING SINCE CAVAN
The opening sequence of Julien Temple’s latest music documentary about teenage rock band The Strypes features a cartoon map of Ireland, a cheap re-enactment of 15th century clan culture and a leprechaun. Add to this a quaint little narrative about Cavan, a clichéd reference to the county’s 365 lakes, and you’d be forgiven for thinking that you’d stumbled on a badly constructed and condescending Bord Fáilte promo made in the 1970s. Surely this is not the work of a man famous for his groundbreaking cinematic studies of The Sex Pistols and Joe Strummer, among others? Would he really paint such a lazy picture of backward rural Ireland and how four young lads escape against all odds to make their fortunes in rock n roll? Could he actually partake in a twee bit of marketing aimed squarely at the US public, already salivating for the next big thing? Surely not.
We need not have worried. What follows for the next hour is an intelligent, honest, touching and often funny documentary that hits as many right notes as the subjects it is studying. Filmed as a series of short interviews with band members, parents, A&R men, friends, relations and fans, the film expertly plots the progress of this little rock phenomenon that has happened in one of the more unfashionable parts of Ireland. Using stills from their childhood, home movies and remarkable footage shot by local filmmaker Finn Keenan, Temple takes us on a journey like no other; the story of four friends who grew up within a few short miles of each other , sharing a love for the music that was created 30 or 40 years before they were born. There’s an element of ‘the stars are aligning’ to the story of The Strypes and Temple’s documentary captures this without using any of the normal clichés you’d expect. Elton John comes closest to reminding us of the peculiar magic that surrounds the band when he compares their formation to four boys being ‘dropped by aliens’ in the middle of “Cavaaan”. It is the bespectacled one’s curious pronunciation of Cavan, as if it’s a fine French wine and not an Irish midlands town, which brings the first laugh. Clearly, nobody feels that rock royalty should be corrected on the niceties of local language!
Elton John’s involvement with The Strypes happened after an amazing string of events described in the documentary, principally by their manager/chaperone/parent, Niall Walsh. Niall’s son, Evan picked up a pair of drumsticks when he was 3 years old and on the evidence of the noises he can make with them now, he hasn’t put them down since. Evan was playing Beatles songs with his friends Josh McClorey and Pete O’Hanlon when everybody else was bouncing on trampolines and wrestling with PlayStations. Josh’s love of lead guitar came from his father Tommy, an AC/DC fan and owner of most of the best comic lines in the film. “What’s in the dog is coming out in the pup” is Tommy’s assessment of his son’s command of his instrument, an extraordinary talent later complemented on by legends Jeff Beck and Paul Weller. When Pete discovered that his own gifts lay in bass guitar and harmonica and not in front of the microphone, the last piece of the jigsaw was to find a lead singer. In walked Ross Farrelly from ‘out the road’ and The Strypes were born.
Similar to the others in the band, Ross comes across as a modest and unassuming interviewee. He quietly reminds us that he was only 12 when they made their first appearance on the Late Late Show, the flagship Irish TV programme that was a ‘big deal at the time’. Onstage, Ross is transformed into a prowling energetic frontman whose voice improves with every sold-out gig. Perhaps this can be put down to the trademark shades, originally worn to combat shyness but whatever the reason, the metamorphosis is astounding. For those that have followed the evolution of The Strypes, the rate of progress can be best measured in their lead singer; from fresh-faced innocent with high-pitched wail to confident crooner with a menacing growl. A lot has been said
about the tender ages of the band members but it is their youthfulness that makes their remarkable progress so vivid. A trip to a Strypes gig invariably includes somebody shouting incredulously in your ear “They’re actually better than the last time!” This sharp rise in their talent curve is well captured in Temple’s documentary. In the words of EMI’s Mike Smith, “their musicianship is off the scales”.
The film, however, is far from being a love letter to a promising rock band. It is the sensitivity of the piece that is particularly striking and it’s skill in capturing what is the real essence of The Strypes. Here is a group that are, in Pete’s characteristically colourful words “an alternative to the false manufactured shite”; a bunch of friends trying to carefully plot their course through the dog-eat-dog world of ‘entertainment’. Niall Walsh, having experienced the disappointment of ‘nearly making it’ with a band called The Fireflys in the eighties, knows only too well the pitfalls that are lying in wait for them. Footage from their breakthrough gigs in London in 2012, including a sensational debut in Ronnie Scott’s Club, gives a taste of the huge excitement that has surrounded the band and the ensuing interest from the various labels. As Walsh puts it, “there were that many A&R people at the gigs, there was no room for the fans” In the end, the band, and those around them, decided to sign with Elton John and Mercury Records, a five-album deal initially designed to sow the seeds for a ‘slow development’. This is something that is clearly very important to the boy’s parents, and it is their range of emotions, from trepidation to elation, that is so beautifully captured in the film. A sequence showing Ross clearing his school locker for the last time gives a stark reminder of the commitment of these ordinary decent people from an ordinary decent town to a potentially extraordinary journey for their offspring. This journey has already included two tours to Japan and an appearance on ‘Late Show with Letterman’ last March. It’s hard to take in, but it’s real. “Thank God for YouTube, we’d never see them otherwise” sighs Ross’s mum, Noelle.
Like the four young members of The Strypes, the viewers are brought firmly down to earth in the last section of this well paced documentary. Tensions between the label and the band are beginning to surface as some of the songs are deemed not to be strong enough for the second album, which has now suddenly become more pivotal for their progress than had been initially agreed. The ‘slow development’ that had been a key part of the record signing has been replaced by an impatience to produce the big record. There is a lull, as cracks show. Differences in opinion come to the surface. Josh, the principal songwriter, hints at his desire to move on from the ‘pub rock’ style of the band’s work to date. He is listening to everything from hip-hop to metal. The other three are not. Filmed at the local GAA football ground, standing alone bouncing a ball, the young guitarist describes this time as ‘purgatory’. A shot of the four lads sitting on a boat on one of Cavan’s picturesque lakes drifting aimlessly, provides a stark contrast to the furious direct pace of their career to date. It’s a long way from Letterman.
One suspects, however, that Temple has made a little more of this crisis for dramatic effect and the film ends with the upward curve being put to right. More songs are written. The new live set is prepared. The journey continues. Josh reckons the new songs are ‘more Zep than Feelgood’. The EMI A&R man concludes that ‘tension makes for more exciting music’. And The Strypes train is back on the tracks.
Julien Temple has made a special film about a special band with a special story. Somehow, it just feels like the beginning.
But what was that leprechaun about?