Having played in almost-famous Dublin band Chicks in the late 1990s, Annie Tierney wanted to feel some respect for new project Tieranniesaur. She's got it, writes JIM CARROLL
IT STARTED with a riff. Annie Tierney sings the melody from Sketch!so you know the one she's talking about. One of the best Irish albums in yonks came from it. Tierney has been involved with Irish bands past (Chicks) and present (Republic of Loose, Yeh Deadlies), but she's always wanted to do something under her own steam.
"I've been meaning to do stuff for years. I'd been writing and stopping for a long time. I'm married to Padraig , who is in the Yeh Deadlies, and one night he started playing that riff from Sketch!on his guitar. I thought it was amazing, but he didn't end up using it. It stuck in my head, and that's where it all came from. I wrote Sketch!walking around the streets, and began writing and recording other songs at home. About two years ago I had the basics for about 10 songs written and recorded. I didn't have a band or a name for the project or anything like that. Then our computer broke and I put it all aside."
Last summer, though, Tieranniesaur began to stomp. Tierney, her husband and other members of the Popical Island collective were hatching plans for a compilation and gig. At a meeting, someone said there weren’t enough women involved, so Tierney stuck her hand up and said she had something she could do.
She and O'Reilly finished Sketch!for the compilation, put a live band together for the gig and decided to go back and finish the album. The result is a sweet, mischevious album that zings with effervescent pop. Part of its charm is that it's a little rough around the edges, but that doesn't take away from the infectious bubblegum bounce of the songs.
Tierney’s happy with how it turned out and that people seem to like it. For her it was about “not being afraid to fuck around with stuff and leave something sound scratchy and messy. I’ve had experiences when I was younger when you overdo things in the studio with millions of takes. It’s not fun. I prefer making music at home and leaving in all the craziness. It’s an awkward process, because I’m not a great musician and it takes a while.”
The experiences she refers to were as a member of Chicks, the Dublin trio whose sassy, trashy punk-pop attracted admirers in the late 1990s. Chicks went from studying for their Leaving Cert to recording an album with Royal Trux for Steven Spielberg’s Dreamworks label before it all fell apart.
Tierney shakes her head and smiles as she recalls that time, when two dozen record labels were tripping over each other up to see three fifth years play a gig. “It was unreal. I don’t think people get those phone calls any more, the ones that say ‘I can make you a pop star’ or ‘I can make you a millionaire’.”
Those teenage encounters with record labels, big-budget recording studios and lawyers had a negative effect on Tierney. “We eventually got the rights to the album back – we own it now. People are still encouraging us to do something with it and put it out, but someone only has to mention that record and all the stress comes back.
“We were hiring lawyers to sue other lawyers – mad shit when you’re 19. I walked into it with my eyes open. I was the one in there with the solicitors going ‘we want an extra 5 per cent’,” she laughs. “It was our own doing.”
Tierney is interesting about the expectations that come with even moderate success. “There’s a lot of outside pressure on you. You’re being judged on something which started out as you simply trying to express yourself. I’ve seen it with other people, and the guilt is unreal if you put a foot wrong or the record doesn’t sell or the deal doesn’t work out. You might have all these people around you – from the guy who drives the van to girlfriends of band members – waiting for things to happen, and as the songwriter or band leader you feel responsible. It never happened to me, but it’s a horrible situation to be in.”
Tieranniesaur is very different. “It’s purely a hobby. I work in a full-time job to make my money, and this is something I do for my own enjoyment. It’s great for me, because people can take it or leave it. There’s no direct line between someone liking it and me being able to pay my rent.”
She doesn’t feel the part-time approach is for everyone, however. “If everyone did that, it would be bad for art. You have to have people who devote every day to making music, and it’s bad that lots of artists who want to do that can’t do that. I often feel that musicians are bottom of the pile, especially in Ireland. It’s even worse than in the UK for musicians here.”
She had modest ambitions when she decided to finish the album and put it out. “Lots of stuff I wanted to happen has already happened. I wanted to get the record out of my system, because it was bugging me. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it, because I was beginning to doubt that I could write music I liked.
“I wanted to play some cool gigs, like the Body Soul stage at Electric Picnic, and we’ve been asked to play there, so I’m very happy about that. I’m glad that people like the record. And to be honest, I wanted to get some respect. It’s been so long since I’ve done something like this that it’s nice to know it’s possible.”
Tieranniesauris out now
