Cork singer-songwriter Brian Casey isn’t on a lot of radars just yet. A veteran of the small pub gig, Casey’s hazy blend of folk, blues and acoustic pop was never quite aptly showcased to a larger audience. Until now. ‘Plain Sailing EP’ does nothing if not highlight this under-the-radar talent hiding behind the bar stools and by-chance punters.
Nope, ‘Plain Sailing’ is like a jug of water, adding dusty guitar genres like powdered flavouring. Flavour to taste.
The title track is a great starter to set the tone, immediately showcasing that this is something we shouldn’t dismiss. Casey’s got a great vocal, instantly recognisable and comforting, like an old friend’s. Smooth, clear and elastic in its range, gruff over the confident strumming. It’s very ‘pub on a Sunday night’ but the potential there provides more than just a pleasant pint soundtrack. Added harmonies echo his effortless bluesy strums, resulting in a stripped down Black Keys crossed with an old Californian Eagles-era quality.
It’s a pretty solid track, never once waning, which makes Moments’ disjointed opening wake you up all over again. Casey’s vocal and backing instrumentals sound as if they were recorded in different rooms, different environments, at different distances from the mic and in different tones. Basically, they don’t gel. The song itself is insanely absorbing and elated with sorrow, but the production lets it down. Casey is brilliant and his voice full of determination, the bass just completely throws us off.
Crimes‘ steam-train Spanish guitar also pops up out of context on the stuttering Surviving, and it’s all a bit cabaret. Surviving itself, however, is what you’d image The Police’s early reggae rock experiments sounded like with a detrimental message of passivity.
“Sit tight, chill, the world keeps on turning all you gotta do is stand still,” he encourages in a sort of ‘fuck it’ cheerfulness. Each track is just completely different, they don’t particularly mesh well and that holds it together as an interesting EP. It’s perfect taster menu in a restaurant you’re just dying to return to, all containing a signature dish done by the same chef you‘ll clearly ask for again.
The perfect comedown is found on Lazy Day. It’s sort of like listening to two songs at once, a gentle folk guitar under Casey’s distorted vocal, practically yawning his way through the song–hey, it fits the title. “Gonna go nowhere, go nowhere, nowhere,” and with that repetitiveness, he doesn’t. A final reassured shout to his ability to hold a fierce note, in case you were having any doubts.
It all sounds very familiar. Not in a copycat way, in the comfortable way listening to your Dad’s records feels. It’s the stuff you go back to a lot, and if the production is taken up to the standard his song writing deserves’ Casey may just start turning out the favourites.