Return To The Planet Of The Apes

By Joe Kavanagh

One of the great marvels of the human condition is undoubtedly its sheer propensity for unpredictability.

The current crop of humanity inhabiting this rock in space may indeed be the most scrutinized in the history of mankind, but despite the best efforts of statisticians, sociologists, advertising executives etc. we remain, to a large extent, an unknown quantity, capable of irrationality, flights of fancy and downright foolishness.

Gloriously, this capacity for individuality means that we fail to fit into convenient boxes or categories, a notion perfectly captured by the axiom which professes that we are all unique individuals, just like everybody else.

It is the reason that we have different opinions, different looks and different tastes in music, and it is this facility as sentient beings that largely separates us from the animals.

For all the marketing, PR and hype, some bands make it and some don't, often without record executives really being any the wiser as to the reasons why. Just ask the poor sod at Decca records who so famously turned down the Beatles.

There are even those rare examples when the hype is justified but the public still fails to catch on due to a collective sense that they are being press-ganged while in other cases, an act is swept up from the underground in a moment of cultural zeitgeist - how else to explain the Macarena?

For most advertisers, the ideal consumer would probably be some blend of human and animal, a point that happily brings me to the topic of this week's column.

Taking their name from just such a hypothetical notion, whereby science might one day be able to fuse the genetically similar chromosomes of a human being and a chimp, Humanzi have bafflingly managed to play on both sides of this hype versus underground match, without ever really having the chance to choose which side they were on.

Back after a three-year hiatus, hopefully this time around they will be judged simply on their music because if that were the case from the beginning, they would already be one of the most successful acts to emerge from Ireland.

There is something pointedly apt about the fact that a band which draws much of its energy and emphasis from aggression should have its beginnings in a good old-fashioned fist-fight, but that is exactly what occurred when singer Shane Mulroney, bassist Gary Lonegan and their friends came into contact with guitarist Colm Rutledge, drummer Brian Gallagher and their own group, in the famed Dublin watering-hole, Bruxelles over a decade ago.

After several instances of malocchio, words were eventually exchanged, leading to an all-in donnybrook on the street outside the bar on the very spot where a life-size statue of Phil Lynott now stands.

As can sometimes be the case, the melee instilled in the groups a newfound respect for each other, particularly when they discovered their shared love of music, and while they initially stayed in separate groups and musical acts, they remained on friendly terms thereafter.

As part of Dublin act, Listo, Mulroney and Lonegan had their first brush with musical notoriety when their band was chosen to front a TV advertising campaign for Vodafone, but the brief flirtation with fame proved to be their zenith, so when the act imploded in 2003, they recruited their former foes in the formation of Humanzi.

As solid veterans of the Dublin music scene, all four agreed to treat their latest incarnation with professionalism and urgency, making a vow to dissolve the band if a recording contract was not forthcoming after one year.

Taking their musical lead from names like The Clash, Led Zeppelin, Thin Lizzy and electronic-edged acts such as Primal Scream, Underworld and Joy Division, they set about their task in a true group effort, where songs were born in rehearsal studios, as opposed to on one member's computer screen.

The formula worked as their demo soon percolated from the Dublin underground to the desks of major A&R staffers in the UK and elsewhere, touching off a bidding war, which eventually became a two horse race between Virgin and Universal offshoot, Fiction.

As home to such names as Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Queens Of The Stone Age and Snow Patrol, the band were sufficiently satisfied with the latter's track record to sign a deal in 2005, spending much of the year working with producers Gareth Mannix and former Nine Inch Nails drummer, Chris Vrenna, on what would eventually become their debut album.

In November of the same year, they had their public unveiling with the release of Fix The Cracks, a darkly brooding bundle of energetic guitar rock that offered a perfect statement of intent.

2006 saw further releases in the form of Long Time Coming, Diet Pills And Magazines and Out On A Wire, surrounding the release of their debut long player, Tremors, which saw them emerge as one of the most capable musical contenders that Ireland had offered to the indie world in some time.

Driving melodies, frenzied vigor and cerebral, sometimes confrontational lyrics, all colluded to form a potent, infectious balls to the wall form of rock'n'roll, which launched the band onto the UK music scene and beyond.

The invigorating mixture was enough to secure them opening slots with names like Foo Fighters, The Strokes, Peaches, The Pixies and New York Dolls, as they traversed the continent and made several appearances in the US.

With their affable manner, accessible music and the backing of a major label PR machine, they should have been the toast of the Irish music scene.

Not everyone was happy however. It would be utterly remiss of me to talk about Humanzi without mentioning what was tantamount to a smear campaign amongst the very people who should have been celebrating them the most.

It is a campaign that can essentially be traced to one news story which emerged soon after they signed their initial contract with Fiction, claiming that they had received a $2.2 million signing-on fee, an accusation that the band has rubbished since it first emerged.

Even if it were true, most rational people would imagine that such a story should have no bearing on how an act's music was judged, but some of the more petty, incestuous elements of its music media and music scene, used this uncorroborated fact as a stick with which to beat the band.

Discussion boards lit up with ridiculous suppositions, half-baked 'facts' and attacks that were of a personal rather than professional nature.

One scribe launched a bitter attack on the band in a review of one of their singles, without ever even mentioning the single, while another, who described them as "trendy leftist anti-capitalist peaceniks", claimed that because they were on a major label, they had no right to pass themselves off as a political protest band like Rage Against The Machine.

The journo neglected to mention the salient fact that Rage Against The Machine were signed with Epic (a part of the Sony group) while they were at their peak.

Following this logic, Dylan should never have written Blowing In The Wind, because he was on Capitol Records, Neil Young should not have penned Alabama, because it was released on Reprise/Warner and the list goes on.

Despite the fact that all who actually know them will attest to them being decent people, elements of the fourth estate berated them for their attitude, as if they were enjoying being in a rock band just a little too much.

Virtually lost among all of this character assassination, perceived sleights and petty jealously was the fact that the band used a chunk of their signing-on fee to set up Sound Foundation Recordings, a label dedicated to releasing works by unknown Irish acts.

The entire episode smacked of typical Irish begrudgery. At least in the UK and the States, an act is built up before they are knocked down.

While it can be argued that such mud-slinging had little effect outside of Ireland, such a position fails to recognize how an act often relies on a core audience in order to survive, a home base from which to operate, and the fact that perception is often reality in the music world.

With such anemic support at home and taking into consideration the band's international aspirations, it is hardly surprising that they made the decision to decamp to Berlin, where they toiled away in their own rehearsal space, venturing out on brief forays around the continent.

This summer they returned to Ireland and the UK, with a recalibrated sound that tips a hat to their German surrounds, incorporating more electronica and a healthy hint of Krautrock and songs like Bass Balls, In Every Dream Home A Heart and Neu Tune bode well for the future.

Their second album is now awaiting a release date and given that the dust has settled over the past three years, its release might prove to be a worthy occasion of getting a second chance to make a first impression.