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been working well so far and the reward factor is
greater because you’ve done it all yourself. There’s a great sense of achievement.” Following on from this, Keyes adds, “One of the things about SWELTR was that around the time it was formed, I wasn’t really in a good spot and neither was Noel,” recalls Keyes. “It wasn’t shared misery, it was shared support. We really felt connected to this thing that we both loved; making music together. We both needed it in our lives and for that reason, it makes being in this band just a little bit more special. Also, there’s the fact that we’re both so heavily involved in the songwriting and Noel doing PR things, everything is way more personal for the two of us because of that.” SWELTR not only became a beacon of support between the duo, but they have cultivated a dedicated community of fans who have found solace in their music. When asked about what they hope will unfold for SWELTR in the immediate future, and what inspires them to continue making music in spite of the hardships of releasing music in an already over-saturated market, they explain that they are endlessly motivated by younger generations of fans. “Although our fan base is small at the moment, it’s a really lovely and interactive fan base that’s really supportive,” says Dempsey. “We have kids who are around thirteen or fourteen asking me for guitar tabs so they can learn our songs and they’re asking Noel to show them how to play drums. Out of all the music I’ve done and bands I’ve been in, that’s the most heartwarming response I’ve ever experienced. To have kids asking us if they can learn our songs to play them with their school band or alone in their room; that’s the best part of the whole thing, for me,” Keyes explains through a wide and warm smile. Amongst the younger generation of Irish musicians forging a career in music and finding her sound is Larabel. The Donegal native discovered her passion for performing at open mic nights hosted in Leo’s Tavern, known as the home to Clannad. “I played the first song I ever wrote at that open mic night and got a good reaction which made me want to seriously pursue it as a career,” Larabel tells me. Since then, Moya Brennan has described Larabel as ‘a gifted singer and songwriter… one of Ireland’s finest up and coming talents’. Larabel relocated to Dublin when she turned eighteen and started studying songwriting in college. There, within the first few weeks of settling into a new place, during a stroll through the city centre, she was inspired to begin busking. Initially, busking was a way to make some money whilst singing and playing her guitar, as time went on, it would provide a sense of community. Three years on, Larabel is preparing to start her final year in BIMM, the music college whose graduates include Grammy-nominated Fontaines D.C., 18 Anna-Mieke, and Jafaris, amongst others. In between assignments, she has released three singles, supported David Keenan and Paddy Casey and has performed on the stage of the 3Olympia. On BIMM’s website, from a 2017/2018 survey, it states that “83% of BIMM graduates are actively working in the Music and Creative Industries six months after graduation.” With a selection of courses on offer for students to specialise in music production to business and songwriting, Larabel describes how the college has been beneficial to her career beyond the syllabus. “I think college has really helped me, it’s been really great for networking and building connections for booking gigs and getting some exposure.” As well as helping create a database of names to call upon when looking to further her career, Larabel notes the importance of her classmates in building her artistic confidence and also creating a strong sense of community through music. “I would often jam with my two best friends in my course. There’s a really nice vibe with the class, we’re all quite supportive of one another. There isn’t a feeling like we’re competing with one another.” The sense of community that ties the Irish music industry, whether signed to a label or operating on an independent level, has always been steadfast regardless of how things evolve within the landscape. Throughout my time speaking with each of the artists for this feature, that was a recurring sentiment that found its way into our conversation. With There’s a really nice vibe with the class, we’re all quite supportive of one another. There isn’t a feeling like we’re competing with one another. – Larabel Ireland’s music scene being so small and intimate, it’s generally only a matter of time before you untangle the various threads that bind certain scenes or generations together. This became apparent in my conversations with both Larabel and Banyah, the Blessington-based siblings Paul and Aisling Jarvis, with whom Larabel recorded her first two singles, Monster (2020) and Tout le Monde (2022). The Jarvis siblings (pictured on opening spread) are sitting in their new home studio, which has been functioning for five months. The pair released their debut single as Banyah in 2019, having previously made music independent of one another. It was always inevitable that Paul and Aisling would work together as music has been an integral and informative foundation in their lives. Their mother is Moya Brennan of Clannad, who are celebrated for their innovation in popularising contemporary Celtic music. “We’ve grown-up with music for our entire lives. It’s always been such a big part of our family. Our mom had us in music lessons since we were seven, we didn’t even really realise how much we were being encouraged to go into music as a career. We had music lessons six-nights-a-week until we were 18. That was normal for us.” Aisling describes before her brother promptly expands on their music-led upbringing. “We were always going to play music, there were times when instead of going on a family holiday, our mom would bring us to festivals to play gigs with her. I remember we played Glastonbury with her when Aisling was 18 and I was 16.” Aisling and Paul’s experience of their parents encouraging their children towards a career in music is, of course, a rarity in Ireland. Typically, at any family function, musicians will be faced with the inevitable prying questions, Are you still at the music? Or Do you make a living off it? Their exposure to seeing their parents (their father, Tim Jarvis is Moya Brennan’s manager) has been hugely insightful to them as they plan Banyah’s trajectory from a practical perspective, as Aisling explains. “Seeing my dad managing mom throughout the years has helped us to see the business side of the music industry in action. It’s tough, though, to put on those two different hats because all you want to really do is create. Ideally, we would love to have someone else doing all of the PR work but it’s just too expensive.” The mention of the costs involved in outsourcing work ahead of album announcements or radio plugging, leads me to ask Banyah about the struggle in balancing the business versus the creative sides of being an independent artist and how sustainable this practice is in the long term. Paul notes, “We know a few people who have been on the Basic Artist Income and we’ve seen how they’ve been able to use that to push their music and be able to concentrate a bit more on the musical side. You can really see how it’s actually elevated their music because they have more time to concentrate in one area.” The Basic Artist Income pilot scheme was introduced in September 2022 by the government to best “inform future government policy on how best to support Ireland’s artists and creative arts workers”, as stated on the Gov.ie website. The scheme, which is running until 2025, sees artists receiving €325 a week, which is paid on a monthly basis. It seems only logical for there to be such fiscal support put in place for artists in Ireland, particularly when we consider how much the government emphasises our rich cultural heritage across literature, music and the visual arts as a selling point to the rest of the world. In providing a basic income for artists, it opens up the possibilities to focus entirely on one’s craft and not rely on a day job for a wage. This type of support, in some cases,