A LAZARUS SOUL
Brian Brannigan, Joe Chester, Anton Hegarty and Julie Bienvenu
Photo by Kieran Frost
Dublin's best guitar band now
Article/interview by Brian F. Cousins
(June 2025)
Ireland post-Covid is producing an even greater quantity of great new music than it has in the past, world class rock bands of all hues, (Fontaines D.C.) brilliant singer-songwriters ranging from the trad & folk mold (Niamh Regan) to freeform (CMAT), inventive electronica (Roisin Murphy) and rap artists (Kneecap).
As a Dubliner living in New York for the past 35 years, it has become something of an obligation and struggle to try and keep up with all this talent and outpouring. Much of the music from Ireland and the U.K. does not resonate with me to the same degree as the music produced all around me in New York. But some music just cuts through all the clutter and delivers. Little Simz is such huge talent and just screams London in such a way that it transports me back to that vast and varied city immediately. Her music seems both brand new and timeless, which is some achievement.
Fontaines D.C. wore their Dublin credentials on their sleeve so forcefully that initially I found Doggerel (their brilliant debut) contrived and felt that they were just doing a Dublin "Mockney." It took a little time for me to get over my suspicions and see their originality and sincerity. However, they are not the one band that truly defines dear 'ould dirty Dublin for me, that honor goes to A Lazarus Soul.
Unbelievably, I only found their music in the past year or two, however Brian Brannigan's ALS have been in existence for the almost 25 years, their first 7-song album having been released in 2001. Together with producer and now permanent guitarist Joe Chambers, ALS have produced six albums worth of great music. The band has veered in many directions before settling into a style and sound that is a unique blend of robust driving rock with the phrasing of Irish folk. The band also feature the rhythm section of Anton Hegarty on bass and Julie Bienvenu on drums.
Brannigan's lyrics and phrasing are the key element as he deals not only with many of the darker aspects of Dublin, addiction, gentrification but also celebrates the ordinary and the everyday quirks that define the city (The New York Times recently called him one of Ireland's best songwriters). It's very telling that he considers ALS to be a Dublin band for a Dublin audience with the occasional excursion beyond the pale. It's also so telling that Christy Moore (who in Ireland holds a position similar to Johnny Cash as a master storyteller and national moral conscience) covers two ALS songs on his new album. Brannigan's songwriting is extremely personal, his songs are littered with references to all his stages of his life and the songs also contain references to his parents' life's and older sibling's (he being the youngest of nine) which create a mosaic of an older Dublin that is fading fast.
Brannigan has also found his "voice" on the two most recent ALS albums, The D they put between the R & L and No Flowers Grow in Cement Gardens. Prior to these, he sang with a more conventional rock voice, now he fully incorporates all the features of his speaking voice into his singing which imbues the songs with a much greater authenticity and originality.
Songs such as "the Dealers" and "Long Balconies" deal with specific Dublin circumstances that are difficult to explain to an non-Dubliner but need no explanation to a native and this is what makes them so special to any clued-in Dubliner.
Throughout all his songs there are reminders of the frailty of life, the cruelty and harshness of circumstance and reminders, memento mori, of those who have their dreams crushed and their lives hollowed out.
On the most recent album No Flowers Grow In Cement Gardens, there's a trio of songs in succession that bring together these themes of loss, cruelty and spirituality so completely as they lead from to the other. "Diver Walsh," "Glass Swans" and "Factory Fada."
Niall Crumlish on his psychiatryandsongs,com website gives his interpretation and insights of the first two. For him these songs are linked by memories of people that died by their own hand. His observations are beautifully nuanced and articulated.
I want to add some thoughts on "Factory Fada"(fada being an accent in the Gaelic language that broadens a vowel sound). For me, this tragic tale of the lives of two preteens, Francis FitzGerald and Francis McGuire, who's futures are destroyed by the physical violence of a teacher, Mr Power, is the third act.
In this song, Brannigan details what may be a key element of his worldview.
'Who gets to decide who were the weeds and who were the flowers, And how can a child know it's worth, When we label them as ragwort, And stamp them in the dirt"
In this tragic tale of the two lads short lives he starts with "Staring into space like a prepubescent sage I could see the future at eleven years of age"
Learning of the death of one of his school friends as an adult he adds,
"Coming home from the factory on an overcrowded train, I opened up the Herald and Fitzy had been slain, "Well know to the Garda" was all the paper said, Nothing 'bout his killer sense of humor, Nothing about his lightening turn of phrase, And every time he passed you he would say a "big hello" Nothing of the Francis Fitz, I used to love and know."
Musically, these three songs come together in a beautiful fashion.
"Diver Walsh" opens after a gentle sonic pulse as a languid guitar based piece that moves at a gentle pace. "Glass Swans" shifts gears, moving along at a brisk clip on a surf guitar riff. Both songs featuring choruses with hummable melodies with Brannigan stretching his voice to its upper registers. "Factory Fada" starts as a folk ballad, being joined by somber strings, with Brannigan as narrator, but midway through the song it is interrupted by some sonic doom that could have been provided by Lankum before returning its robust folk style.
There are so many other high points through the albums that would be foolish to try and list them all. For example "Wildflowers" is probably a song that Shane MacGowan would have wished he wrote, and along with "The Flower I Flung into her Grave" rattle by, fueled by more than adrenaline. 'Lemmon 7's" and 'Funeral Sessions" are really as good as songwriting gets and are destined to become standards (in Dublin, at least). Their full catalog is available to stream I suggest doing yourself a huge favor and just dive in to discover one of the best bands on the planet.
Brian Brannigan and Joe Chester took the time to write answers to questions I sent them so here are their responses complete and unbridged.
PSF: Can you give me a history of the band and its members as it evolved.
BB: It was always meant to be a loose outfit, so there were many phases. The debut, alazarussoulrecord, involved Pat Barret (bass), John Barrett (guitar) & Darragh Shanahan (drums). For our second record, Graveyard of Burnt-Out Cars, I drafted in three of the Future Kings of Spain, Joey Wilson (guitar), Bryan Mc Mahon (keyboards), Anton Hegarty (bass)) & Fin O'Leary (drums). This line-up was together for seven years.
I was messing with electronic stuff for a few years & we made a record with a few friends from Dublin bands including Rollerskate Skinny & Sunbear/ Ruby Tailights. We put this out as our third record, Through a Window in the Sunshine Room.
I was asked to play a few songs at a night dedicated to the Fall. I asked Anton, Joe & Julie to play with me & we did an hour's rehearsal for it. The three of them made a glorious racket behind me that night & we've made three albums since.
Joe produced, engineered & played on all the records. Although he didn't officially become a member until later, he's been integral to the band since the beginning. Anton's been there since the second record & Julie joined on the fourth, Last of the Analogue Age.
PSF: What are your thoughts on moving from an independent label to a major record company
JC: I don't think any of us would feel comfortable with that scenario. I've personally signed a few deals with major labels over the years and it's always seemed to devolve into a demeaning and frustrating experience. For example, a major label that I won't name bought a song catalogue that contained all of my songs from 1995 up 'til 2017. When the term of the contract finally ran out, it took years to get anyone on the phone to engage with me. I'm fully confident they didn't even know who I was. They certainly didn't have any interest in my music. It's just a naked, capitalistic and acquisitive approach to music. I do remember feeling on one other label that they might as well have been selling toner for photocopiers! With Bohemia, it's a small label, run by two brothers. They have supported us brilliantly and we have a great relationship.
PSF: What the dynamic for the band when two members of the band live in France and two members of the band live in Ireland?
JC: There's no denying that it can be frustrating - I think we all felt that during the recording of the last album. Especially with the pandemic, there was a two-year period where we just couldn't do anything. We recorded the D in a more piecemeal, fragmented way which was very successful in some ways but I think we all felt that for No Flowers, we wanted to set up as a four-piece and capture the energy of the band. Julie was especially invested in that idea and I have to say, she was right to hold out, even though it meant we had to wait out the pandemic before we could do anything. That wasn't easy, especially on Brian. I know, as a songwriter, when you finally write the full stop at the end of the last song, you want to get the thing recorded and out into the world as soon as possible. But something I've come to appreciate more and more is that there's something about this combination of people in a room that creates an energy that's just so special and rare. I'm glad we captured it!
PSF: Siobhan Kane in her review of NFGICG in the Irish Times draws attention to one of the many beautiful features on the record : can you comment on this?
"There are pleasingly evocative ambient flecks throughout - there in the opening moments of 'Black Maria,' and again in 'Diver Walsh' (and its Sigur Rós- like dreaminess), meeting us once more at the record's close to guide us home. These moments really enrich the record and speak to another thread that A Lazarus Soul might consider pulling further, since these moments, as simple as they might seem at first, suggest a profound and layered grace, and more than that - a continued deep romance for the world in spite of its continued chaos."
JC: I think that some of that might come from the analogue side of things. I started out recording in a little 16-track tape studio in Dublin in the 1990's and I've carried my love of recording on tape through to the present day. That's not to say I haven't fully embraced digital recording, but tape still plays a big part in the sound. Recording these days has sadly become so allegorical, it's all emulations of physical processes so I think it's important to work in real, tactile ways. As a guitarist and engineer, I try to take a painterly approach to music and sound, creating a tonal palette whether it's Beatles Revolver-esque razor sharp guitar sounds (still the gold standard of recorded electric guitars) or the more blurred and romantic edges that recording on tape gives to things.
Bear in mind that we are working with some incredible source material in Brian's songs. I've always been interested in finding interesting sonic and musical contexts for those songs to live in and Brian's always been really up for that too.
PSF: On the new album in particular, your vocal phrasing and pitch seem so attuned to rhythm and tone of the music. Can you describe how this all came about? Is there a particular approach you use or was it one of those things that just evolved over time?
BB: I feared my vocals were so subpar on this record & I wanted to rerecord them. Joe had to convince me that they weren't bad, so it's gas to hear you say that.
I write a lot of words, but my retention is poor, so I run over the lyrics hundreds of times in my mind until they roll off me, I don't have to think about them & I can get lost in the song. Within this process, the rhythm & phasing of the words become very definite, almost like muscle memory.
PSF: As an experience what was playing a large venue like Collins Barracks like (Dublin, capacity: 5000) and was this your largest audience to date?
BB: We'd played similar size venues, Iveagh Gardens & Belfast Botanic Gardens where the crowd was near capacity towards the end of our set. However, there was a huge crowd from the start of our set so yes probably our biggest gig to date. Growing up, I was so obsessed with The The & this was just the dream support in an incredible venue. We got to watch them sound checking, Matt Johnson came over after to introduce himself & said he loved "the Dealers." Our set went down well & their set was incredible. We had a great chat with Matt afterwards, he got some photos with my daughter, no exaggerating, it was one of the most perfect days of my life.
PSF: What your plans for live shows this year?
BB: We live in different countries & we've all got regular, full-time jobs. Joe & Julie fly over from France, we rehearse for a couple of days & then play a gig. We use up our holidays from work on gigs, so we're limited in how many times we can play each year.
PSF: I was fascinated to see a connection with Mark E. Smith and the Fall. I believe the title of "No Flowers grow in Cement Gardens" was taken from one of his lyrics. There are so many bands that owe a debt in style or sound to them but not so much ALS. His influence on ALS seems to be more on a profound level, regarding being true to your real life and circumstances. Could you share your thoughts on what his influence has been on you personally and on your songwriting?
BB: Mark was the dark matter that held the universe together & hence the world is collapsing since he left us. He was the artist that fascinated me more than any other ever has or will. It's subtle but his influence is all over this record, the phrasing, the way he leaned on a different part of a word, the way he made his own slang, his use of magik realism. I felt a great freedom with how I used words on this record & it's a direct influence of MES (who'd f**king hate us). "Black Maria" was inspired by This Nation's Saving Grace, "Glass Swans" is haunted by the ghost of "Leave the Capitol." A little part of me died with him.
PSF: You write so passionately and with great detail about your upbringing and your families and neighbors experiences'. So much of what you write about could only be written about Dublin. What does Dublin City especially the City Centre mean to you now given all the changes in recent times?
BB: I feel a great connection to Dublin city, its history, its music, it's people. My soul soars when I walk its streets, I've seen it through boom & bust, it always feels the same to me, I feel a great sense of belonging & sure isn't that what we are all looking for in life, to belong.
PSF: So many of your songs are about addiction and lives stunted and half-lived. I find your songs to be compassionate but clear eyed. It seems to you want to give these people a voice and allow their story to be told. Is this what you are concerned with? Or is it more complex? Are they a form of therapy and/or provide a sense of catharsis?
BB: It's less complex, I haven't got a clue what I'm doing most of the time. Songwriting for me is all feel, it's instinctive, I try to stay out of the way & just let it happen. I gravitate towards certain characters, certain stories, certain words make me glow, that's only way I can describe it, I get this feeling & I follow it.
PSF: I found your section of music on the Tower Records feature (around the time of The D they put between the R and L release) so interesting. I was really surprised by the electronic music you choose. You mentioned that listening to it helped you form your lyrics. You mention everyone from Snoop Dogg & Kim Gordon to the Congos. Quite a range. What music are you currently listening to that inspires you?
BB: I always considered myself, much more of a music fan than music maker. I'm a passionate LP collector & gig goer. I feel most alive when there's music involved & my taste is mad varied.
We're all loving Mo Lé by Róis. It's an incredibly beautiful record based on the tradition of funeral keening & she blew us away at the Choice prize. I'm a little bit obsessed with Anohni. Myself & Anton went to see her sing Lou Reed in the National Concert Hall recently & it was one of the best shows I've ever been to.
Some great Irish releases recently, In Hope our Stars Align by Bren Berry, Come as you Are by Niamh Regan & Wake up People by Sack are all deadly. I'm loving the latest Richard Dawson (a mad musical genius) & Kim Deal's solo album is probably her greatest piece of work.
PSF: And Lee Scratch Perry, what a coup to have him guest on the album and close it out so well (on "No Flowers"). Can you describe what he and his music means to you and perhaps how you managed to get him involved.
BB: The idea was probably inspired by the opening of Ladies & Gentlemen, We are Floating in Space by Spiritualized. I had this idea that I wanted a vocal sample from Mark Smith or Lee Scratch saying the name of the album at before it starts. MES died & it cut deep, I couldn't bring myself to listen to the Fall for a few years. I started reading Fall books to ease myself back in. One afternoon, I was out my back garden & I read the lyrics to "Psykick Dancehall" by the Fall. I'd heard this track a thousand times but when I read the line "my garden's made of stone" fireworks went off in me head & I started singing "no flowers grow in cement gardens." Lee advertised his email occasionally for Dub work so I sent him an email & immediately got a bounce back. Strangely, a few days later, his wife, Mireille replied on a different email & said Lee could give me a phone recording. I cried the day I got it, there was enough stuff to make a track but very sadly he died 12 weeks later. It meant the world to me & it was the main reason the album got finished. Due to his passing, it made more sense that it ended the record, Lee signing off, RIP LSP.
