Silverbacks are Ireland’s Immutable Chameleons
Their third LP's effortless marrying of experimentation and familiarity makes it their best work to date, ricocheting between references like Nick Cave, Mercury Rev and Elvis, yet remaining unmistakably Silverbacks in sound.
Photo by Róisín Murphy O'Sullivan
Three albums in, and eclectic Irish six-piece Silverbacks have finally found their sweet spot. The band—who are scattered across the Irish towns of Newbridge, Drogheda and Leixlip, as well as a little-known spot called Paris—release their third LP, Easy Being a Winner, via Central Tones / Cargo on October 18. The record’s effortless marrying of experimentation and familiarity makes it their best work to date, ricocheting between references like Nick Cave, Mercury Rev and Elvis, yet remaining joyously, unmistakably Silverbacks in sound.
I meet up with two-thirds of Silverbacks—vocalist/guitarist Kilian O’Kelly, guitarist Peadar Kearney, drummer Gary Wickham and their latest addition, bassist Paul Leamy—in the packed Dublin pub The Lord Edward, and by some stroke of luck we nab a table. The Lord Ed is a favorite spot of mine, with impeccable pours of Guinness and comfortingly old-fashioned decor, but the usual gentle burble of conversation filling the place edges toward a din today. To combat the cacophony, Kilian occasionally leans into my dictaphone (carefully balanced in an empty Guinness glass) during the interview like a politician giving testimony in court to jokingly set the record straight or proclaim his love for whoever we’re talking about, whether it be their manager, Gavin Elsted, or Silverbacks’ artist-in-residence Cam Taylor, who’s done their album covers and T-shirt designs since the band’s inception. Kilian also repeatedly apologizes for derailing the conversation as we talk, but I don’t mind at all; it’s deeply calming to listen to the chatter and good-natured digs between four guys who have been friends for years, even if I just met them today.
The only two Silverbacks not here are Kilian’s older brother Daniel O’Kelly (vocals, guitar) and Emma Hanlon (vocals), who also happens to be Kilian’s wife. When I ask Kilian what it’s like playing in a band with his brother and his partner, he answers, “One of them you love because it’s like a natural thing,” before leaning into the mic to clarify: “Emma, I love you. The other one you have to love, because he’s just kind of been in the house all day with you from birth.”
Daniel and Kilian are relentless songwriters, which Gary deems “a blessing and a curse.” “They never stop writing,” he explains, which means that, by the time the band go to the studio with an album’s worth of tracks to record, the Brothers O’Kelly may have come up with 30 or 40 songs in the meantime. Before starting Silverbacks with the rest of the gang, Daniel and Kilian would make demos at home together. “We would literally like ping pong to write a song, give each other stink face. And we weren’t playing gigs, it was just a bedroom project,” Kilian recalls. “And since the lads all joined, we’ve become like a machine… Daniel and I aren’t just brothers; we’re brothers in a band, so there’s other people’s voices to be heard. And I would say it’s the same with Emma and I. We kind of switch channels. We’re band members around the lads.”
Peadar, Gary and Paul may not be a family unit the same way the others are, but the trio all hail from Newbridge, Co. Kildare, a commuter town near Dublin that many Irish people associate with the eponymous silverware designer. “If you grow up in Newbridge, it’s very tight-knit, especially if you play music,” Gary explains. “Even some of our early press shots were done by our friend Steve, who’s from Newbridge… It’s like a little cottage industry.”
While Paul is technically a new member of the band, he’s been in their orbit for years, having been on the road with them and helping out in various capacities in the past. He even DJed at the release party for their sophomore album, Archive Material, at the popular bar Big Romance, which is known for its custom hi-fi system. “I had no experience DJing ever,” Paul confesses. “It was going well, and then as the night went on, I got a little bit loose. I dropped the needle on the slip mat, and I was confused as to what the sound was.” The band have since christened him DJ Slip Mat. (The only other band nickname I learn about is “Travel Daddy,” a moniker Gary earned thanks to his organizational skills on tour. No wonder he works as a project manager in his day job.)