The lady looking at the camera - third from the left - is my nana. She taught me piano, and she’s mentioned in this interview along with a few other people to whom i owe a debt of gratitude. 
 A piece published by the paper in my home town of Ennis, County Clare. It’s difficult to condense a lengthy naval-gazing chat about your recent life into a page of type but, it is an article that has made me take a step back and go “actually, hold on a second, I did that. I’ve done something”.  I’m not out to fry big fish or anything with this EP, (maybe later) but it is nice that it has been acknowledged in some way. It is symbolic of where I am at in life. the direction I have turned, the proverbial circles I have walked in at times.  I know you reader, have achieved a lot in your life too, so today - take some time to reflect on your achievements, take a moment to wallow in the warm glow of producing work, of creating a body of work, of meeting new people, of making relevant connections, and of sustaining friendships over the years. Whether we say it or not - the respect is implied. Especially to fellow composers and musicians the world over - we are a scattered generation. Go n’eirí linn 
Shortened Suite - Meadhbh Boyd


My first release on my new label Bad Boyd. You can own your own copy for just £1.79 by clicking here.  

I’d like to thank everyone for the support and encouragement, especially Denise Mangiardi, Niall Acott and Ray Staff at AIR Studios, to Eva Slusarek for photography and Lauren Kinley for the cover illustration. BBC Radio 6 Music Tom Robinson and Cian O Ciobhain at An Taobh Tuathail for the airplay. To my writing / musicking mentor from afar, Chilly Gonzales.

And the family, bf CH, and friends who partly inspired the music. A special shout out to the swarm of Associates from Tate Modern around the world. Thanks to you for listening.

If you like it, spread the word. I will be thinking about gigging soon, and looking for collaborators. Reach out, don’t be shy.

These cats were a gift from my grandmother who passed away last August. She bought them while on holiday in Killarney, County Kerry when she was a teenager (in the 1940s). The horn player lost the bell of his saxophone before I acquired them but the rest are in good nick. She gave them to me one Christmas - individually wrapped in soft tissue paper, in an old Milk Tray box. Those sweets were long eaten. So many people would chuck out packaging but, she was a thrifty lady.
 I bought the victorian-style glass dome recently - it’s nice that the cats have somewhere special to live now. I often think of her, and other dead people. I realise that sounds morbid. I find her letters every now and then - years of correspondence from my young adulthood to last year some time.
 Death. Is just so strange. Sometimes it’s like I plain forget that people are dead, that people die. That makes me feel like a proper idiot. Sometimes ignorance is bliss - but then realisation crash-lands you back to real time. Once you get through a certain grieving period things return to relative normality - and death reinstates itself as an abstract happening. People live on in your memory.
 You sometimes forget about any negative personality traits, in a weird way romanticising their, and your shared past. That’s how they should remain, this is how people should be remembered and celebrated. They existed. They gave life a ‘lash’ and in some cases like my grandmother (or your loved ones), they leave this world leaving a mark of power and influence that will long outlive you or I.  Recently I have been thinking about existence in the frame of shared narrative. Stories. Links. Existential challenges. Ephemeral moments. The things that words can’t articulate. I think about this because of the mystery of the disappearing plane. I know it’s tragic but, what an amazing thing to happen. We can cushion ourselves with technology and knowledge - that makes us forget that we are totally fucked sometimes, that the chances of being outwitted or diddled are very real. 
Martin James Burton Photography

Reproduced with kind permission from Martin James Burton Photography, Check out the rest of his work - there are some really great portraits.  This image was taken at University College Cork Alumni Gala Dinner event, November 2013: Meadhbh Boyd (fiddle), Neil O’Loghlen (flute). 

+eva photography blog: Portrait photography: Meadhbh Boyd

Eva is a star. Simple as that. 

+Jim Lang - Composer

Jim Lang wrote the music for Hey Arnold, I love it.

Watching cartoons in bed due to being knocked off my bike yesterday by a double decker bus two minutes from home. The ‘designated’ Cycle Lane - a false security measure - was obstructed by parked cars. I pulled out in front of the bus. I indicated right for a long time, looked back, and before I know it the bus is right up close on my right side. Bus wasn’t travelling too fast. Everyone was well annoyed because the traffic stopped for a few minutes - I hate this about London - often zero compassion, or perverse onlooking. I saw that guy at Camberwell a few weeks ago. Everyone standing around looking, or complaining. Where I come from (Rep of Ireland) almost everyone would go out of their way for you, make you tea, give you water, comfort and reassure you. Instead I got tens of people looking on, not acting or doing anything meaningful. No one comforted me when I was hyperventilating and in shock, except the ambulance chaps who said “alright, now, get yourself together, nice slow breaths”

My left arm is very sore and there are bruises all over my legs. I’m very thankful worse didn’t happen but, pissed that I’m missing a day and a half of work with the E17 Puppet Project and it affects my being able to play piano /violin. Boo! What can self-employed people do when this happens, does insurance cover this kind of thing? Loss of earnings? Arrgh… What a dose.

Painkillers, Minstrels, pots of rooibos and cartoons are helping, though. I’m more than likely not going to cycle in London again, not worth the risk, particularly if drivers have blind spots or choose to ignore the fact that there are more vulnerable road users sharing main carriageways.

+Artist Shows What Disney Princesses’ Happily-Ever-Afters Really Look Like

fat arse from eating McDonalds?

Lemaitre at Fabric | Live review 
Lemaitre is a Norwegian indie-electronic duo formed in 2010 by Ketil Jansen and Ulrik Denizou Lund. They performed their second London gig in Fabric to a decent crowd on a freezing cold night.
The duo’s big expansive sound is no doubt a challenge to mix live. The overall levels were good – the clean and at other times gritty Fender guitar cut above the low end of the synths and drums. Splitting Colours featured a really sweet children’s choir track, gritty effects on guitar and glistening piano. Cut to Black is an anthemic summer track that just keeps giving – with a particularly civilised midweek audience who smiled to themselves, yearning for the hot weather again. Fiction was a lively mid-tempo hit with sparse instrumentation at parts, great panning, a badass riffing guitar, fat bass synth and 007-like piano chords underneath.
 The duo are well-read musically, quoting Stax vinyl, Justice, Phoenix, and Daft Punk among their influences. However the music of Lemaitre is more than the sum of its parts - so lining them conveniently alongside Daft Punk doesn’t do them justice. The 20 year old man-child geniuses are early on in their development but already have five EPs under their belts.
It’s refreshing and more natural to see musicians / producers who are competent, confident and passionate enough to have some banter during a gig and surprise a crowd – a rare occurrence in a time when people expect bands to sound note-for-note like the compressed mp3s they have bought. They looked like they really enjoyed themselves, and audiences love to see that. Audiences also love to be manipulated, and they were – powerful sub bass, and dynamic drops were scattered throughout.  The music is much more impressive live than it is recorded, although the records are also a huge achievement.
In terms of staging, there was a self-designed white 3D model centre stage - the same used in their Relativity sleeves – on which fuzzy responsive visuals were projected. Between songs, they displayed an effortlessness in swapping instruments, live programming, and improvisations.
Sceptics, Lemaitre’s second encore - exemplified their skill in manipulating sound, combining classical harmony that child prodigy Mozart would have been proud of, with the sounds of our time: dubstep, grime, and pop. The only negative comment is that there should have been even more people there to enjoy it. 
Verdict: 5 stars
Meadhbh Boyd
For further information about Lemaitre and future performances visit their website.