Candice Gordon + A.S. Fanning + Louis Brennan
Candice Gordon grew up in Dublin, Ireland. Since her debut releases of the singles ‘Smoking Like the Barrel of a Gun’ (“Watch Out we’ve got a badass over here” – Nylon) and ‘Cannibal Love’ (“Agreeably bonkers slice of horror themed garage rock raucousness” – The Guardian), she has released her Shane MacGowan produced EP ‘Before the Sunset Ends’ to critical acclaim ‘ – (“the greatest song never to feature on the Twin Peaks soundtrack” – Hotpress), recorded her album ‘Garden of Beasts’ (out September 8th), and toured tirelessly throughout Europe and the UK.
She treads a musical line that lies between Gothic rock and post punk, with a raucous garage high energy live performance and a 3 piece band.
A.S. Fanning is a singer-songwriter from Dublin, Ireland, now living in Berlin. Previously frontman and chief songwriter of Dublin bands Porn Trauma and The Last Tycoons, his first solo release was ‘Carmelita’ on 7-inch vinyl in late 2015. Since then he has been touring in Germany, Austria, and Switzerland and Ireland, with the Irish Times noting Fanning’s ‘observational eye about the local and global which made for the stuff of some meaty songs like ‘Carmelita’’. Fanning’s songs are often lyrically driven, taking inspiration from Irish literary tradition and folk music as well as from 60s psychedelia and gothic rock n roll.
As a multi-instrumentalist he has played with acts such as Dublin troubadour The Mighty Stef, Berlin Industrial Electro outfit Suzies Ashes, and Irish songstress Candice Gordon, most recently producing and playing on Gordon’s soon to be released debut LP, ‘Garden of Beasts’. He made his US debut at South by Southwest in Austin, Texas in March 2017 and his debut album, the self-produced ‘Second Life’, is due for release in the Autumn.
London based Dubliner Louis Brennan is a singer-songwriter in the folk tradition. His folk however aren’t the field hands and travelling minstrels of yore but the repressed middle managers and ennui-ridden urbanites of late stage capitalism. They populate tales of bad sex, half-drunk commutes and interpersonal claustrophobia delivered in Brennan’s cracked baritone, at times embarrassingly intimate, at times spuriously broad, peppered with pitch-black humour.