During the lengthy period of anticipation for the release of Richie Egan’s third album, Jape has built up a massive live following and quite a reputation as -the act most likely to’, with music fans eager to hear his near-fabled set of new songs. Finally immortalised outside of the live show’s party-zone, a closer listen to these stonkingly bombastic tunes divulges their richly profound nature and the delicate voice behind the infectious carousel choruses.
Egan is a distinctly Irish character; the -cheeky messer’. When he was younger, he probably made funny sounds from the back of the class and answered back to teachers. Now he has transformed his energies into mashing together rock guitar (see the snake-charming riff of -I Was a Man’), crunchy hip-hop beats, synthesised bleeps and bloops, vocoder harmonies, transcendent pop melodies, and lyrics like ‘We smoked a tea-bag/ To see what would happen’. The simplistic yet striking everyman philosophising which defined -Floating’ continues here with lines such as ‘There’s a tournament in my soul/it’s a tournament I can’t televise’ and -Graveyard”s ‘It’s such a short, short distance from the nipple to the soil’.
This is an album concerned with the thematics of death but the tonality and audaciousness of life. On the almost anti-folk -Phil Lynott’, Egan reckons that when he dies he’ll be reduced to being ‘a dead man who plays the bass, from Crumlin’. But going by the strength of this record and the instrumentation employed, he’ll be known for more than just that.