‘Handing Paul the reins... was such a release’
As an independent solo artist, Declan O’Rourke has forged a career very much on his own terms. Ever since the release of his debut album, Since Kyabram in 2004, he has either licensed his music through small record companies or on his own Maiesta Music label.
Creatively, it also helps that the 45year-old’s songwriting skills are that of a master craftsman. His prowess on the guitar is virtually virtuoso level and his studio knowledge means there are very few production credits on his records attributed to anybody other than himself.
So, his latest release, Arrivals, marks quite a sea change in his approach as he explains.
‘I wanted to approach my life and my career differently. I had made four records, four years in a row. I managed myself, I was fiercely independent,’ he says.
‘Then my wife, Eimear and I decided to start a family and I thought I am going to do this differently. I compiled every contact, every business card that I had ever been given and I said I’m going to get a proper manager, a record deal and an international touring agent. I was against doing any of that for years.’
It’s likely that East West Records, which is owned by Warner Music, took little persuading to sign such a respected and commercially successful musician.
He also decided he wanted to
‘hand over the reins’ to a producer on the collection of songs that would become Arrivals. The man he chose was Paul Weller, the legendary Modfather and long-time admirer of his work.
He famously said of O’Rourke’s first single Galileo that it was a song
‘Some of my friends told me I was unproducable and I felt like that about myself for a long time’
he wished he had written himself and one of the finest songs of the last 30 years.
‘Some of my friends had told me
I was “unproducable” and I felt like that about myself for a long time.
‘I had never worked with a producer before. I had one half experience when I re-recorded a couple of songs for [the re-issue of 2004’s] Since Kyabram. It was a very messy experience. The guy wasn’t even in the studio half the time when I was there. I hadn’t wanted to change anything on that album anyway.
‘I wanted a pair of ears this time around that could challenge me but also reinforce when I was getting it right. I had no idea who that might be. Then one morning I put on the vinyl of Paul’s album True Meanings; I was getting my threeyear-old son ready for creche and it kind of stopped me in my tracks. I could hear his decades of comfort and experience in the studio. It was so warm and complete. I imagined how much I could learn being in a studio with someone
like him. Then I thought “oh, maybe he’s the guy”. We’ve been in touch over the years; the odd text maybe every six months or so, a nice friendship at a distance. Before I chickened out, I texted him a couple of hours later.’
He realised that if he enlisted Weller’s services, ‘there could be no half measures’.
‘Anything he decided to do I would just have to say ‘okay’ and give over to it,’ he says.
‘There are a few similarities between me and him. We have moved through different styles and stages in our career regardless of the consequences. That gave us a certain kind of understanding.’
In truth, songs of the strength of Have You Not Heard The War Is Over? Olympian, The Harbour and Convict Ways needed few embellishments. He cites the example of the closing track This Thing We Share as an example of Weller’s deft touch and empathic sense of what was best for each song.
‘Paul thought there was a French vibe to it and it reminded him of Nat ‘King’ Cole which I loved,’ he says.
‘I didn’t expect the piano flourishes that Paul added. I didn’t even know he played piano. I knew if I handed Paul the reins there was going to be no half measures.
‘But as soon as I decided that, it was such a release, a liberated feeling. I stepped across a line but I feel like I’ve been rewarded a thousand fold for taking the risk.’