YEARNING FORNOFF SYNDROME

I recently had a discussion with someone about the lengths you should go to as an organiser to facilitate performers. I had just told them I was going to to pick up a poet from the nearest bus stop 30 minutes away and that a friend of mine had offered to put them up for the night and drop them back the next morning. “Are you mad!?” was the response, “nobody would do that for you!”. Maybe not, but then I’ve never asked anyone to. I’d like to think someone would, in the spirit of fair treatment and genuine artistic support, help out if needed. If not, then why not? Because it would cost them time, effort and petrol money, a bit of food and 6 scoops of coffee? Have these things become so coveted in modern day Ireland that the old Celtic philosophy of the welcome has been lost? As far as I’m concerned, if you can’t offer to pay a performer in actual monetary units for their time, effort, and talent, then you should at least repay in kind, however that may manifest itself. 


So, the scene was set. One gifted poet was installed in Lismore for the night, ready for her spot at The Sessions. Erin Fornoff, Daughter of Appalachia, regular of the Dublin spoken word scene, including Brownbread Mixtape, The Monday Echo, et al and dab hand of the festivals too, with Electric Picnic already under her belt and with a spot at Glastonbury looming this year. Why would you not put yourself out for such a lady? Erin is spell binding, genuinely. With a warm honey voice and heart-felt gestures on stage, her poetry is rooted in the earth of American characters, the lost and the brazen souled. Although only gracing the stage for too short a while, Erin managed to tease out tears, goosebumps, reflective sighs and quiet revery. Not a shabby exchange for the spin and a lodging house!

Yearning Curve opened the night, winding their strangely eclectic mix of tunes which moved everywhere from soft jazz, mild country and electro-pop that could have been scooped straight out of the eighties. The duo (sometimes four piece) have a charming stage presence, Bairbre, the lead, self doubting herself on the guitar, but playing more than adequately along with her electric guitar and keyboard wielding band mate and singing their quirky songs with a beautiful, pure folk voice which suits their various genres well. 

Goldfish Syndrome returned to The Medicine Sessions too, performing some new material from their soon to be released album. You will not meet a nicer gaggle of lads, hard working and serious about their music, but with a sense of fun firmly secured in their performance. The lads are tight, both in their delivery and their friendship and their songs are well constructed pieces of gold, which contain the right amount of earworm magic, melody wise, to make the songs memorable. James, the front man, is well able to drum up even the smallest crowd into a roomful of hand-clapping teenagers, roaring along to the Goldfish Syndrome brand of rockpop. 


 Each performer landed themselves a deep pocketful of shrapnel by the end of the night, kind donations from the audience and added their atmosphere’s to the thickening mojo of The Medicine Room. Thanks to all the guys for travelling to perform for us and to Medicine go’ers Matt Tull and Áine Davis for helping out Erin Fornoff and sharing the Medicine philosophy.