Confronting Loss

For about 5 minutes in 2007, we toyed with the idea of calling our newly formed band Little Red Cars. I remember telling him about it at the kitchen table one evening. His response was, “You should call yourself Little GREEN Cars, because Little Green Cars will save the world”.

Dad was a dreamer. He had been a successful entrepreneur in Dublin during the 90’s and 00’s but always detested being called a businessman. After a certain point in his career, he discovered that the pursuit of success and fortune ultimately brings with it no real happiness. And so, growing up he always encouraged me to find what it was I was passionate about. As a kid he wanted me believe in myself and taught me that in life you have to believe in what you do. That has since become the band’s motto. Dad also recognised the importance of having a creative outlet, for the mental and emotional solace it can bring. It was his idea that I take up the electric guitar and 3 years later Little Green Cars was born.

Four weeks after his death, we were set to embark on our first major US tour, during which time Absolute Zero would be released. The death of a parent is a difficult thing to deal with, especially on the road with the travelling circus that is life in a band, and as the album began to pick up steam Little Green Cars travelled the world extensively. We toured the US, Europe, Australia and Russia for a little over 2 years. It forced us closer and closer together. Being so far from home, at such close proximity and for such lengths of time with five other people can be tricky. You start to become hyper sensitive to each others emotions. In those 2 years there were break-ups and break-downs, Stevie’s grandmother passed away and I struggled with my grief for my father. At times on the road we reached breaking points. But in this instance, what doesn’t kill you does make you stronger and reaching those vulnerable states together helped form a bond that can only be likened to family. It was during these times, and often in this environment, that Ephemera was written.

For this album we wanted to take ownership of our ideas. We felt confident in our abilities both collectively and as individuals, and decided we were about ready to produce the record ourselves. We brought in Rob Kirwin to co-produce, and set up shop on Dublin’s Exchequer St. From the beginning it was decided that we would record Ephemera at home in Dublin. In the winter, there is a bitter romance to Dublin city that is almost tangible and for us, these 12 songs had their roots firmly in the city’s soil. The album is named after a beautiful poem by WB Yeats and walking home each night, it’s sentiment seemed to ring through the streets.

There is no formula to how we make music. Every new song is an new adventure and like so many songwriters have said before, once you’ve written it you soon forget how it was done. There is only one thing that dictates our decision making in Little Green Cars and that is the song. Whatever is at the heart of the lyric is what drives us in our pursuit of the music. We listen to it and it tells us where to go. If there is one thing these past 3 years has taught us, it’s how to be better listeners.

The process of recording the album was exhilarating. Everything we had been through together after Absolute Zero’s release had turned us into a real unit. We learned how to effectively communicate with one another and respected each others opinions completely. This made for a safe and comfortable creative atmosphere, that allowed us to journey inward and outward without fear.

Each and every idea was tried and tested. Sometimes we weren’t quite sure exactly what we were looking for, but we always knew what weren't looking for. In that way, I’ve always likened music-making to sculpture. You have a big slab of stone and slowly, you chisel away until some shape begins to appear. Once you get down to the finer details, it can become difficult to maintain perspective and knowing when a track was finished could sometimes be a challenge. For that reason, being in a band is a wonderful thing. Rather than just one sculptor, you have a group of like-minded sculptors all working on the same stone.

Ephemera, to me, means the passing of time, the fading of light and the beauty of a moment. The songs we’ve written for this record try to confront some big truths head on. Sometimes the truth is frightening, sometimes it disappoints you, and sometimes it only inspires more questions. But it is only by confronting it that you can begin to decipher its meaning and grow. These songs will forever mean so much to us, as they represent a time in our lives where so much was changing. At first it was scary and often it could be painful, but in time it grew into something beautiful. Something that will remain, despite the passing of time or the fading of light.