Everything began to make sense when Ciaran Lavery saw a videotape of an early 1990s family holiday in Blackpool. The Lavery clan were all on screen – and the singer-songwriter was much taken with what he saw and heard.
“Up to then, I’d a handful of songs for the new album which had a loose connection around me at my current age looking back, or as a younger person looking at things,” the quietly spoken Lavery says.
“The video clicked with me and I brought it to the studio to get the audio. It was an experiment to see if this audio from the family trip would tie everything together and it turned out to be the glue that brought the whole album together.”
Let Bad In is Lavery's second album of beautifully turned-out songs. There's introspection in the wash for sure, but also tough edges, soulful swing and enough astute production ideas to keep him healthy and mark him apart from the all the other sensitive lads with guitars.
The nostalgia colouring the songs appealed to Lavery for several reasons.
“It’s always strange to see footage of yourself of old,” he says. “You have some kind of idea or memory, but it’s not the same as your memory of that experience at that age. It mutates and skews a little.
“Unless you live under a rock, you’re never going to have that innocence and naivety you had as a child. You have to lose that to become an adult – get rid of all those childish things – and the album is like a celebration and a funeral for that.”
True west
Let Bad In is also a move on from the music which coloured Lavery's debut album, Not Nearly Dark. Then, he was looking west for influence.
“The first songwriters I heard were Dylan and the Woodstock stuff. And Arlo Guthrie – I listened to him before I listened to Woody Guthrie – and Tom Waits came along in my late teens.
“I don’t know why my access to the American songwriters was quicker than the Irish ones,” he says. “We would have had some Irish music at home, but it would have been The Dubliners and The Fureys. It’s hard to deny the importance of American music on me, and those American names have legendary status.”
Lavery gives tough marks when it comes to his own work live, in studio and as a songwriter.
“They are like three different versions of me really. Live, I’ve got really comfortable with what I do and weeded out the things that don’t work. The studio, I still feel a bit of a novice and know there’s a lot more experience I need to gain, I can’t walk in thinking I know it all.
“With songwriting, I’m comfortable with the songs I’m writing now, but that scares me because I’d hate to slip into a comfort zone where I’m constantly writing the same thing and there is no development. Nobody wants to be the person in 10 years still singing the same song. I want to slowly step away from how I write now as a long-term career goal.
“There’s no point thinking, ‘Okay, I can do these songs now, I’ll stick to this’.”
For many years, Lavery plied his trade as the frontman of seven-strong indie-folkies Captain Kennedy. “We were together for six or seven years and never really broke beyond Ireland and never really talked about long-term aspirations – which may be why we went on for as long as we did.”
These days, Lavery and Lavery alone calls the shots.
Going solo
“The transition from band to solo is frightening at the start, especially live,” he says. “When you’re part of a group, you have a shield around you and it’s like being in a team. Solo, you’ve no one else onstage with you and there’s nowhere to hide. You’re not getting any energy from anyone else. You have to be an interesting act to watch because you can only get so far as one man and a guitar.
“But the benefits are many,” he adds. “If someone rings me and asks me to do a show, I can pack up my guitar and go rather than ask six other people. There are times when I miss the camaraderie, but there’s more freedom for me now to change things rather than meet in the middle.”
When it comes to his own career, Lavery thinks and talks sustainability and long-term.
“My benchmark would be Bonnie Prince Billie. He can exist and sit below the radar and have a long-term career with a fanbase that sticks with him. You can write as many songs and release as many records and there’s still interest without having to break into the charts.
“When I was younger, my definition of making it was a bit unrealistic and more ambitious,” he admits. “Currently, if I can make music and people are interested and I can have a long-term career, I’d be more than happy.”
It means Lavery could stay living in Aghagallon, a village on the edge of Lough Neagh in Co Armagh, which he calls home.
Make it anywhere
“Believe it or not, I’m still hearing people say I need to make it in London or make a name for myself in some city or other. There is pressure, but you can exist in the smallest corner of the world as long as you have wifi.
“It’s not as important to be based in some big city – you don’t have to move to Hollywood or London to work or ‘make it’. The internet has widened the scope for staying local.
“I’ve never felt that draw to move and be part of that rat race. I’ve lived too long in the country and like the pace too much. I can live here and exist here and work here without people asking me about music.
“Plus, there’s no real phone signal out here, so I get left alone.”
The other side of Lavery
Last year, Ciaran Lavery teamed up with Derry producer Ryan Vail for a mini-album called Sea Legs, inspired by the Donegal coast.
“Working with Ryan was totally disconnected from the new album because those songs, apart from The Colour Blue, had been kicking around for a few years so that I’d forgotten about them.
“The process was so quick. I went down and recorded guitar and vocals, and then because of the wonderful way the internet works, we were able to get so much done and not be in the same room.
“It was probably quicker because I was not looking over Ryan’s shoulder and he wasn’t looking over mine, so we each had a lot of space. It was really nice for me too, because I was in the middle of writing this album and it was good to step back and do something else for a while and look at the new songs from a different angle and see what fitted together.”
Ciaran Lavery plays Sea Sessions on June 24th.
