Dec 29, 2009

David Hope: Daybreak Someplace

I was always one to cram the night before the exam so I guess it makes sense that I am frantically trying to cram in the best of the decade right before it ends. I've been rooting through other people's round-ups, finding Irish books I need to read, movies I need to watch, and today, right under my nose (or at least a stone throw's away from my brother's nose at home in Co. Clare), I found a musician I need to heed—David Hope.

As soon as I read he hails from Clare, I downloaded his album, Daybreak Someplace (just in case we're related).

Daybreak Someplace (released Nov 09)
I like the album—it was warm, easy fodder for a frigid cold day here in Brooklyn. My favorite track is a bluesy instrumental number, The Cuckoo's Return, and I also quite like See The Ghost (even more so after I saw the video below where he referred to this song as See the Goat!).



Also, the title track, Daybreak Someplace, is totally worthy of 4AM-drunken-ham-sandwich-sessions. I wouldn't even need to have too much to drink (or have too many onions on my sandwich) to cry at the immigrant notion that it's daybreak somewhere.

I must add though, that I find myself wishing Hope had suffered more as a child.
Don't get me wrong, he has a lovely way with the guitar, a decent folk voice, and YouTube videos show he's a warm and friendly sort with a likeable Brendan Grace (Irish comedian) down-off-the-mountain look about him, but it just feels like his spuds were always peeled for him.
Is it wrong to wish someone would take him back around the Burren on a banger of a bike on a rainy day? I'm thinking soggy socks, potholes, a slow puncture, ancestral whispers, and maybe a little (harmless) dangling of his granny over the Cliffs.
That'd put hair on his chest. And in his lyrics.

I also wish he'd stop singing "at least we knew heaven before we knew hell" and start singing about real people—the Springsteen kind of people now bypassed by Clare's convoluted network of highways. I might write him a song about the night Mary O'Halloran up the road heard the banshee wail as her mother lay dying; or the night after when she was pulling Angela McCarthy's hair as Billy Harty crooned Blue Suede Shoes ...

Anyway, I'm glad I've found David Hope; he'll be one to watch in the New Year.

David Hope's website, DavidHope.ie, seems to be suspended at the moment, but he's on MySpace and you can find his latest album on eMusic.

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