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'SullivanThree 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.)
Besides bringing in Paul, Easy Being a Winner also holds the distinction of being the first album on which they went into the studio with road-tested tracks that still had room left to grow. Their stellar 2019 debut, Fad, was delayed due to the band almost being signed to Wichita Recordings. By the time they went to record the LP and release via Central Tones instead, the band had been playing the tracks on Fad for years and were nearly sick of them. Archive Material (2022), on the other hand, was crafted during the pandemic, largely away from the immediate feedback of an audience’s cheers and sometimes played for the first time in the recording studio.
“We knew what the songs were, but there was still lots of space in the studio to play,” Gary says of Easy Being a Winner, crediting producer Daniel Fox of Gilla Band fame for pushing them to get weird. Daniel’s produced all three of the band’s records, and at this point they consider him an honorary Silverback. He even added backing vocals on the chorus of “Billion Star Night Light,” which is currently Kilian’s favorite song on the album. Between the lustrous guitar and the chug of the bass, it’s essentially the Silverbacks take on a New Wave track.
If there’s one decade that defines the sound of Easy Being a Winner, though, it’s the 1970s. “We realized it was probably the closest thing we were going to make to a classic ‘70s rock album, with the big guitars and the big drum sounds,” Gary explains. Kilian wrote “Look At All You’ve Done,” and the track boasts twangy, dad rock guitar, layered vocals, and riff after riff, all coming together to give the song a sunny, Steely Dan halo. Gary considers “Giving Away an Inch Of” their Fleetwood Mac moment, and I can’t help but agree listening to the tight, silvery riffs and Emma’s crystalline vocals as she silkily sings, “We’re in the red hot pokers now”—a reference to Kilian and Emma’s favorite plant in their garden. Daniel (O’Kelly) gets to do his best Elvis impersonation on the chorus (“Red! Hot! Pokers!”)—and it’s not the first time he’s done so on a Silverbacks track, as he had a moment channeling The King at the end of Archive Material opener “Economo.”
One of the biggest changes on the record is the songwriting, or more specifically, who’s doing it. Daniel used to write most of the albums, but six out of the 11 tracks on Easy Being a Winner were penned by Kilian. “Daniel’s had a lot on in the last year and a half, two years,” Kilian explains, “Would have moved to France, he was sharing a flat with good friends, and he was a little self conscious about, isolated vocals, which sound like shit—not his, but just in general, when you’re trying to write—so he got less done.” Besides that, Daniel has also become a father, which is not always conducive to songwriting. Kilian remains self-deprecating and appreciative of his brother, saying, “He’s always been a better writer. I always prefer Daniel’s lyrics.”
Kilian likes to keep song meanings intentionally vague, allowing listeners to find their own interpretations, but gives me a glimpse into the stories behind a couple of the tracks. The slyly psychedelic “Spinning Jenny” is a classic character story à la Nick Cave, about a man infatuated with a woman who’s no good for him. Emma’s voice swirls hypnotically in the background, a siren song brought to life. He invokes religious imagery here (“The choir of angels crying”) and on “Something I Know”—not because he’s pious or anything, but because “I just think it’s a gold mine.” “Something I Know” is insistent from the outset, with rattling percussion and Emma’s delicately repeated “bum bum bum bum” weaving a deliciously danceable backdrop. Clarinet on the chorus, played by Daniel and Kilian’s father, John, adds an ominousness and depth to the matter at hand: The narrator of the song is a religious person torn between their faith and their lover.
My husband once described Silverbacks as sounding like Pavement if they’d never smoked weed, and he has a point. As layered and surprising as their songs are, Silverbacks don’t meander much, keeping their noodly riffs and bursts of distortion under control—but by no means stifling their playfulness. And besides the sound, Silverbacks are just a bit too intense for those purely slacker rock vibes. “None of us are easygoing. Saying you’re the most easygoing member of Silverbacks means nothing,” Peadar jokes. They’re an erudite bunch, with two members (Kilian and Paul) holding PhDs, and Peadar on the way to making them “the first rock n’ roll band with three doctors.”
Three doctors to go with three albums, the Silverbacks catalog both expanding their sound and distilling it. Kilian hopes that as they keep making music, they show the world their skills as sonic chameleons with a core, immutable identity like Yo La Tengo. “I think that’s always been one of the missions of our band, is that if we want to do a minimal track or a jazz track, or take inspiration from here or there, it’ll come across as a Silverback track still,” he explains. “And the more we put out, the more that’s going to be conveyed.”
Clare Martin is a cemetery enthusiast and Paste’s associate music editor. Go harass her on Twitter @theclaremartin.