When I reach Conor O'Brien on Zoom, the singer-songwriter is preparing for the first concerts in support of his new record, “That Golden Time.” A performance on the Late Show for Irish national television, a mini in-store tour, and then we start with dates across Europe. “The Villagers really are busy at the moment,” he tells me, “but I will try to write new songs whenever I have free time.” He looks forward to the next project, the Dubliner who, as he confesses to me, since he no longer drinks he always feels full of energy, a sort of Superman. Energized, but always critical of the contemporary world: the excessive digitalisation of human relationships and the polarization of opinions seem to be two issues on which he has been reflecting for some time now. A possible antidote for the mind? Read books written before the Internet.
What is your idea of “golden age”, “that golden time”?
Dreaming of another time and place is something nostalgic. I was writing about the tension between dreams and the digital age we live in. However, this is a longing for human interaction that predates the internet, which is a bit ironic considering what we're doing now!
What inspired you to work more alone on “That Golden Time”? If I understand correctly, for the previous album a lot of ideas came from playing with other people in the studio.
It's not something I planned. Even when I sent the recordings to the engineer for mastering, the files were still called “demos”. I actually thought they were still like that, but at the same time I kept inviting musicians to my apartment and adding details. It was quite a compulsive process. Furthermore, they are very different songs from the ones on the last album. They focus more on storytelling, whereas for “Fever Dreams” I wanted to create gods groove and do some kind of library music. Having become more interested in the narrative aspect, I think it naturally became a sort of solo project.
It also seems to me that in some songs the electronic parts are a little more predominant than in the past. Is it related to the fact that you worked a lot alone?
Yes, maybe. However, already in my second album under the name Villagers there was a lot of electronics. Then I distanced myself from it for a while. If I don't see the core of a song with me and an acoustic guitar, I think the identity of this project is lost a bit and it might instead become something I should give another name to. Even when I use electronics a lot, I try to give centrality back to my voice and acoustic guitar.
The ending of “Behind That Curtain” amazed me! It reminded me a bit of “Circles In The Firing Lines” from “Fever Dreams”. There was a long guitar solo and the pop-punk twist, here instead there is a jazzy ambient-techno coda. Do these unexpected turns within the songs have a specific meaning or purpose?
Initially, the final section of “Behind That Curtain” was completely different and was much slower. There was also a recording of my father talking about his childhood. It was intense, but I understood that it was more for me than for the audience. I think this danceable jazz section is more suitable for the album. Furthermore, sonic madness represents that moment in which we discover what is behind the curtain and how the power relationships in place in the world work.
It seems to me that throughout the album you explore and question the dichotomy between appearance and reality in philosophical terms.
On the album cover is an image of an old Irish 20 pence coin and on the reverse is what is believed to be the oldest known coin, minted in Lydia in the 6th BC Monetary value systems are culturally determined and the aspect of money changes, but behind all this there is always a power relationship. In the digital and social age, I believe we often lose sight of the historical context of ideas and how they can also be manipulated.
Why is the horse on the 20p upside down?
I thought it might be fun. Then right now everything in the world seems a little upside down.
It's very interesting how two very different souls coexist in this album, sometimes even in the same song. On the one hand there are acoustic and essential songs like “I Want What I Don't Need” or the closing track, on the other there are very ambitious arrangements.
I wanted to explore both extremes in the arrangements: on the one hand as intimate as possible, on the other as rich and epic as possible. The lyrics also explore the area between the extremes in terms of ideologies and ideas. I believe that nowadays on the Web extremism is somehow rewarded and the most extreme opinions get more and more likes. I wanted this to be reflected aesthetically in the musical choices on the album. Music and art offer a great space to explore that gray area between the extremes we live in: regardless of what we think, we live in this strange, nuanced and above all complicated world.
Do you think that music, through this process of exploration and investigation, can allow a dialogue between extremes?
Yes, at least that's how it is for me. When I write I discover things about my opinions and feelings. It kind of contextualizes my reactions to the world and allows me to see things from a broader perspective. Music has the potential to change people. It definitely changed me: a lot of music over the years has shaped me. But beyond that I don't know how much power it has in the world. It's an interesting question.
You said this is your most vulnerable album, but I think it's also your most delicate.
Yes, these two things are probably connected. My 2015 album, “Darling Arithmetic”, is also very delicate and calm. I think “That Golden Time” is perhaps more fragile; sometimes it seems like it risks shattering.
Why did you choose “Truly Alone” as the opening track?
I felt like it dictated the tone of the album a bit, which is about trying not to get too attached to a feeling, to an idea of nationality, to an identity. On the cover there is also a quote from Nietzsche regarding this idea.
Going right back to the album cover: what does the moth symbolize?
It's a metaphor for several things. First, the metamorphosis. But moths are nocturnal animals that are easily attracted to flames and die as they go towards them. I think it's a fitting metaphor for our daily lives of phones, twinkling lights and screens. Maybe sometimes we get lost along the way by allowing all of this to take over our lives and impact our abilities to interact with the world in human, nuanced, complicated ways.
A golden moth is also the protagonist of the video for “That Golden Time”.
I had sent director Rok Predin a video I had made at home where there was a moth in a short scene and he made it the main element. I really liked it, also because he hadn't even seen the album cover. It was a really nice coincidence and the whole theme started to take shape very naturally.
Instead, you directed the video for the second single, “You Lucky One”. The gruesome imagery contrasts with the song's delicacy. Why did you decide to go in this direction?
The song is about the masks we all wear. The protagonist loses his sense of ethics at a certain point. I had in mind the German legend of Faust and his pact with the devil, and I thought I could make Satan appear in my face. With this runny mask I wanted to suggest how everyone has within themselves the potential to become the worst person in the world.
You invited Dónal Lunny from Planxty to play on some tracks. What is your relationship with Irish folk music?
When I was at university I started listening to the music of his early bands, but I didn't grow up listening to Irish music. When I was a child, in my house we listened to Frank Sinatra, Nina Simone, Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington, and all this type of mid-twentieth century American jazz. However, it's nice to have someone like Dónal as a friend and to have an element of this music in my songs, without ever pretending to do Irish traditional music.
I read that you love Ennio Morricone's music. Any songs in particular?
Very, very much! When I was a child I really liked “Nuovo Cinema Paradiso”, and then obviously all the westerns. At the moment I'm listening a lot to the beautiful soundtrack of a rather bad '71 film, “Maddalena”. Before she died, I saw him conduct in Dublin – it was an amazing concert.
(May 12, 2024)
Antonio Santini for SANREMO.FM