One Man Band: The Communal Music of Tom McShane

By Iain Todd

On a rainy night in Belfast, a small gathering assembled at the Oh Yeah Centre for an intimate gig, some two years or so in the making. Tom McShane collected friends, colleagues and band members in the heart of the Cathedral Quarter for a run-through performance of his new album The Ural Winter. Never being ones to willingly miss such an occasion, the Big List decided to head down.

One of the first things you notice about McShane’s music is its haunting, echoic quality. Trippy, fuzzy guitar riffs are blended with a good balance of strings and brass, creating a folk music which pertains ever-so-slightly to classical and jazz. A relatively accurate comparison for the as-yet-uninitiated might be Fleet Foxes: intricate and intelligent, electrified and trippy.

The new record is a classic example of this type of song writing, for no track on Ural Winter seems to want to stand out on its own. This is not to say the album lacks integrity; songs like Fighter, One Man Band and The Ballad of Morton Candell especially, work perfectly well as single compositions. But as a whole, the album is a journey which just begs to be enjoyed in one, uninterrupted listen.

The audience seem to agree, as no applause is offered between the album’s prologist opening track, The Water, and its follow up, Fighter. It seems a mixture of anticipation and respect for this multi-instrumentalist and textured record.

On first listen, the album conjures up images of a typical folk musician; perhaps long haired and donning a checked shirt and beard. However, he arrives on stage suited-up, sporting black-brimmed spectacles and trim haircut, armed with an immaculately kept jazz arch-top.

A lot of things about this album and performance deny expectation. Far from the clichéd cacophony of Belfast’s many ‘rock’ bands, McShane’s music is diverse, challenging and, well, different. Songs like Love is Hard won’t exactly please those listeners more familiar with melodic pop, but then again the record’s title track, The Ural Winter, probably will.

Musicians come and go, enter and exit as the album’s diverse and ever-changing timbre requires. Whereas orchestral instrumentalists are often employed by rock musicians to do little more on an album than emphasise chord patterns, The Ural Winter takes its collaborators seriously; each with an important part in their own right.

Trumpets, guitars, cello, keyboards and strings all have their place on this album, and Tom seems far too modest to want to keep the centre-stage all to his self. At times he disappears completely, ducking down to let soloists and band members enjoy the limelight when their turn arises.

It is that type of music. Narcissism has always befitted the ego-centricity of rock and roll, but not music of this quality and gentleness. Its folk influence is clear in the all-inclusive aspect of both the album’s structure and the way it is being performed tonight. A perfect example is McShane’s ode to the unappreciated, The Ballad of Morton Candell. The song laments the life of an unknown English architect whose only legacy is a station on London’s Northern Line.

This modesty and humility is obviously something which Tom appreciates in people, and it certainly comes through in this performance. He appears a gentleman, to use an unavoidably-befitting archaic term, and continuously thanks the audience for their generous applause. The album is a team effort, as is tonight. Even the audience get in on it, helping out with the introductory humming on A Personal Narrative.

This album launch sums up the culmination of a long journey for McShane. He comments on his website: “Myself and Producer Rocky O’Reilly worked so many hours together planning it, then more still mixing it.
“The album itself was recorded nearly two years ago and at times I thought it would never see the light of day.”

The set culminates with Flowers; a solo performance on classical guitar which rounds off the album as well as it does the gig. It has been a visual journey as much as a musical one. Experiencing the album in this way, musicians coming and going, is a great representation of how the record’s structure seems like one long crescendo and diminuendo; concluding as humble and low key as it began, with an epic and uplifting middle section forming the main body of the work.

The launch is a success, and hopefully this is representative of how the album will do. The Ural Winter is certainly a record which deserves attention, as McShane doesn’t seem the kind to openly chase publicity. In a music scene perhaps growing dreary with overplayed riffs and stale rock ‘n roll, this record is like a bucket of cold Evian in the face, and destined to stand above the crowd.

The Ural Winter is available now on CD, LP, Spotify, iTunes, and other digital media sites.
Support was provided on the night by VerseChorusVerse