A Better Life by Supersmall.

My band, Supersmall, will be releasing it’s album Silent Moon at the end of this month!

When? Monday, September 28th, 7pm.

Where? Rockwood Music Hall, Stage 3.

How Much? $10 which includes a copy of the album.

Click HERE for tickets to the show.

Below is a stream of the first track on the record.


Today is the first day of our week-long trip to a cabin on Lake Champlain in Vermont. I was tired after the five-hour drive from New York but tonight I sat on the deck overlooking the lake and tried to work on some new songs. Across the lake a train began crawling noisily along the water’s edge in the darkness. I was frustrated at first as I was recording, but its haunted sounds put a melody in my fingers and I recorded it. It’s a scrappy, out of rhythm jam that I’ll probably never use but it fit the atmosphere of where I’m currently staying. At the end of the tune the rain started to come down hard so I retreated inside. The owner is an artist so I write this among her oil paintings. Bold colors and empty spaces, the lake has had its effect on her too.

On The Road

I’ve done quit a few gigs with The Amygdaloids as their bass payer since joining them a few months ago, but a recent trip to Montreal was my first road gig. The band was asked to headline the World Congress on Brain, Emotions and Behavior which took place this year at the Palais des congrès de Montréal. All expenses were paid, so of course I flew up a day early and seen the sights and explored the city as best I could before the rest of the band flew in the following day. The second day we had rehearsal that evening and the following night was the main show. All time in-between was spent walking around Old Montreal. The gig itself went great and we were asked back to perform again the following year. The good news is that next year it’s being held in Brazil. Did I luck out joining this band at the right time or what? The whole trip was a lot of fun and I look forward to many more road gigs. I’ve posted some photos below.



Inspiration at last. I thought I might never write another note or word ever again until tonight. Well, that might be an exaggeration but I definitely felt I had dried up lately. It may have been my trip to PS1 and The Sculpture Center yesterday, or maybe it was staring at a blank page long enough tonight but I finally began putting words to the music I had written months ago.

Empty Spaces is the first song I ever wrote out fully without music, just lyrics. When the music came it couldn’t carry the words so I had to edit them to the point where I was left only with my original idea. I was happy to get the first verse and chorus down tonight. I managed to sketch out the rest of it but it may be a while before I complete it.

A Better Life (720 Broken Clocks) is a strange one that seemed to come out of nowhere. It was a slow noodle that I found in my demos from over a year ago. Something about it kept bringing me back to it until I re-recorded it on my classical guitar at double the speed. Tah-dah! A song is born. It has some nice chords and melodies but I won’t be sure until it’s fully finished. I got two verses and a chorus down, I’m pretty happy with that.

Give Me The Fight I’m Looking For and Imperfect are two half-written tunes that refuse to finish the crossing line for now. Maybe later in the week I’ll give them a second chance.

So, after a brief spell of all music and no lyrics I’m eventually finding the words. It feels good. It looks like Supersmall may have its next record later this year after all.


Rejection Letter

I promised myself that this weekend I would clean the apartment, more specifically the “Computer Room” which is a small room that we keep the computer in. It’s unofficially my room as it’s filled with guitars, mics, amps and stacks of half written scripts, song lyrics and short stories in boxes. In fact, I’m writing this blog entry sitting at the computer right now. During the upheaval I found DVDs of early stand up shows, old band demos and even the first professional recording of songs I wrote in a band I played in back in Dublin.  
I also found a letter.
I left home when I was 25 and my first stop was New York. I arrived on January 4th 2002, to a city that was still trying to come to terms with September 11th. I worked for a small construction company and saved every dollar I could for an upcoming back packing trip I had planned with friends in three months time. While I was in New York I decided to send a copy of my E.P. to every record company I could. I pulled out the phone book and each morning, or lunch break, or late evening I would call them to confirm addresses and contact names before writing a letter and placing it with the CD for mailing. Every single person I spoke to told me they would not accept unsolicited music packages. I needed a lawyer or some type of representation. I said I understood and sent the package anyway hoping at least one would get through. 
One lunchtime I lied my way passed the reception desk and got to someone somewhere inside EMI. She gave me the same speech as the others, but I pleaded with her that she at least give me her information just so she could hear it and then throw it in the trash if she wanted. There was silence before she changed the subject and told me that I reminded her of her husband. I asked if he played in a band, he didn’t, he was Irish too. We chatted for about 20 minutes about everything except music. To be honest, she seemed to enjoy being distracted from her corporate job. Our conversation ended with her giving me her information and suggested I mail the CD to her directly. She promised me nothing except that she would place it on the desk of someone who would listen to it, that was all. And that was good enough for me. I sent the package that day in the late mail.
A week went by, then a month and then three. I quite my job and returned home. After six days I left home again and spent the next year backpacking around the globe. When I arrived back in New York I stayed with my old roommate as I had the year before. As I was unpacking he handed me a letter and told me that it had arrived a few months after I had left. It was from EMI. I opened it, it was a rejection letter. It was the only letter I had got back from the many record companies I had submitted too. I couldn’t top smiling at it, even though I knew I should have been disappointed. She done exactly what she promised me she would. How often do people actually do that?