Biography
It happens about as regularly as a sighting of Haley's Comet - a band of luminous distinction streaks away from the mediocre herd and, fuelled by a combination of 10-ton talent and ferocious self-belief, triumphs over impossible odds and heads straight for the stars.
Dublin four-piece Whipping Boy are just such a band.
Originally 'Lolita & The Whipping Boy' - which should give you some idea of their shit-stirring potential - the four dropped guitarist 'Lolita' when her God-bothering tendencies began to get them down. Besides, they could never fit the name on their posters. Disgusted with most of what they saw and heard around them, they torched the script of pop music success early on in their career and let their maverick music lead the way. It has guided them through troubled times - including a threatened ban from playing Dublin's Trinity College, stormy band relationships and accusations of misogyny - and the production of two EP's (for the now defunct indie label, Cheree) and one album (1992's 'Submarine' on the Dublin Liquid label).
Their debut album for Columbia, 'Heartworm' (certified Gold in Ireland), recorded at the end of 1994 with producer Warne Livesey, is Whipping Boy's most intense record to date, with the first single 'Twinkle', voted Single of the Week in Melody Maker, Hot Press, Music Week and on BBC Radio 1 and second single "We don't Need Nobody Else" garnering even more kudos as it powered into the UK Top 50. The album is a blend of heart-heaving emotionalism, visceral savagery and brutal sensuality that distills the single sublime moments of Joy Division, Sonic Youth, Bailterspace, the Jesus and Mary Chain, Bowie and a whole host of classical composers into violently personal mini-dramas. It's a brave big-hearted sound. Frontman Ferghal McKee describes "Heartworm" as "full of tenderness, brute force, hate, triumph and humility. That's basically what most people find throughout their day," he reasons, "throughout their week, throughout their lives. There's a time to be everything and a time to be nothing."
Ferghal is the vocal and spiritual link between Ian Curtis and Van Morrison, and it's his charismatic performances that quickly grabbed the attention of the press when the band first appeared. Ferghal has cut himself on stage before with broken bottles, appeared with his face swathed in clingfilm, sung from atop a ladder and stripped bollock-naked mid-song, but this isn't cynically calculated, cheap-thrills theatre, it's Ferghal's way of saying he has nothing to hide. He'd do the same in front of five people of five-thousand people, because Whipping Boy's songs take him over, pushing him to a darkly exhilarating special place.
As anybody who has witnessed the band's seminal performances on Later with Jools Holland, Taratatatar and the Late Late Show will know, these same Whipping Boy songs are very much a combined effort with guitarist Paul Page, bassist Myles McDonnell and drummer Colm Hassett supplying the sonic maelstrom that powers their songs. This is a band for whom anything and everything will happen.
October 23rd, 1995 marked the release of the album, 'Heartworm' in the U.K. and Ireland, and it was hailed as one of the albums of last year in publications like Vox, Melody Maker, Q, Select, Hot Press and Music Week. Various singles nudged the U.K. Top 50 and several European countries (notably France) succumbed to the group's sound.
Whipping Boy completed a European Tour with Lou Reed as well as headlining tours of their own in the UK, the last of which culminated in a sold-out show at London's Astoria venue. Despite huge critical acclaim, sales of Heartworm did not meet expectations and the band parted company with Sony in 1996. With the band beginning to disintegrate, they recorded their final album in 2000, literally splitting up on the final day of recording in acrimonious circumstances. The album was given a limited release in April 2001, but with little promotion, their final offering disappeared without trace.
Biography#2:
"It used to be the practise in some cultures that the nobility could not be touched and when they committed a crime that warranted physical punishment it was delegated to an unfortunate victim - the whipping boy".
Chapter One of their decade-long saga kicks off in Edenderry, County Offaly, where they played their first gig at a 21st birthday party. Back then, there had also been a fifth female member and they were known as Lolita and the Whipping Boy. Ironically, ‘Lolita’ became a born again Christian and was swiftly booted out when she attempted to convert the others. “She was coming to rehearsals with all this literature and leaving it lying around on the amplifiers and stuff. You’d find it in your pocket when you got home. She had to be blasted out,” bass player Myles McDonnell recalls with humour.
The release of their 1992 debut album, ‘Submarine’, on Cheree Records was followed by a lengthy stay in Limboland when Whipping Boy were “just lying around and not being used”. Proceedings only began to solidify again when Columbia boss, Kip Kroner, witnessed a Whipping Boy gig in Dublin and was swept off his feet by the name. Love for the music instantly followed and not far behind was a two-album deal with the label. “He was one hundred and ten per cent behind us!” guitarist Paul Page chirps. However, the disappointing response to their album, ‘Heartworm’, was proceeded by the departure of Kroner and the arrival of new staff who “just didn’t like the music the way the other people did.” Consequently, the band and label reached the decision to prematurely terminate the relationship. “It’s like any other relationship,” Paul offers philosophically, “When it goes bad, there’s no point in continuing.”
It has now been over half a year since Whipping Boy re-entered Limboland, but they are determined that this time, it will be a flying visit. They realise that the bulk of the problem has been to do with how music has to be in fashion to succeed nowadays. “We toyed with the idea of writing an album full of complete crap because it seems as though that’s what sells at the moment. Just like people sell square Hula Hoops, bands are selling cheekbones and fringes. No one’s really listening to the music.” Myles is half-heartedly attempting to account for the outrageous apathy to which ‘Heartworm’ was subjected. Poignantly tender and yet passionately open-hearted, with lyrics scratched out in brutal sincerity, ‘Heartworm’ was the raw but beautiful diamond which tragically slipped into oblivion. It was more ignored than rejected, merely for its timeless charm and uncanny beauty. But Myles is adamant that they would not have done it any other way. “’Heartworm’ just didn’t slot in with the Britpop of 1994. It was too emotional, but there’s nothing wrong with that.”
The most emotional moment on ‘Heartworm’ comes in the form of the fifth song, “We Don’t Need Nobody Else”, which indicates how, at its most heartfelt, music can be an incredibly sensual experience. Melancholic but exhilarating, it tears your heart apart whilst blowing kisses into your soul. Singer Ferghal McKee’s quirky lyrical edge is fully apparent. “Why say words that I do not mean? They’ll only serve to amuse, ridicule and destroy, and hardly ever to teach.” Often, his lyrics will appear nonsensical but always there is an underlying universal message which will surface. There is a line in their song, “Tripped”, which goes “Accept your mind, and your body lives.” Myles offers his interpretation. “It is all about accepting your limitations in life. Whipping Boy are never going to be The Beatles, nor are we going to be the Velvet Underground. We are what we are and we do it as well as we can. You can spend your whole life wanting to be something else or somebody else and you’re never going to get there.”
So are they confident for the future? Myles shrugs his shoulders but smiles. “If enough people had heard ‘Heartworm’, we could have been The Verve,” he concedes without a hint of arrogance. “But it just didn’t happen. It’s nothing for us to worry about or to get bitter over. We’re still here and it might yet happen.”
Whipping Boy split up in early 1998, but they got the money together to release their third, and final, album "Whipping Boy" in 2000.
After a 6 year absence the band reformed in November 2005 to play a series of dates in Ireland.
Whipping Boy in 2005:
Dublin four-piece Whipping Boy released three albums 1992's "Submarine" on the Dublin independent Liquid label; 1995's "Heartworm" on the Columbia label and their final self-titled album on Low Rent Records in 2001. Their debut album for Columbia, "Heartworm" (certified gold in Ireland), recorded at the end of 1994 with producer Warne Livesey featured first single "Twinkle" (voted Single of the Week in Melody Maker, Hot Press, Music Week and on BBC Radio 1) and a second single, "We Don't Need Nobody Else". The album is a blend of heart-heaving emotionalism, visceral savagery and brutal sensuality that distils the single sublime moments of Joy Division, Sonic Youth, The Jesus and Mary Chain, Bowie and a whole host of classical composers into violently personal mini-dramas. It's a brave big-hearted sound. Frontman Ferghal McKee described "Heartworm" as "full of tenderness, brute force, hate, triumph and humility. That's basically what most people find throughout their day," he reasons, "throughout their week, throughout their lives. There's a time to be everything and a time to be nothing."
As anybody who witnessed the band's seminal performances on Later With Jools Holland and The Late Late Show will know, these same Whipping Boy songs are very much a combined effort with guitarist Paul Page, bassist Myles McDonnell and drummer Colm Hassett supplying the sonic maelstrom that powers their songs. "Heartworm" was hailed as one of the albums of 1995 in publications like Vox, Melody Maker, Q, Select, Hot Press and Music Week. Various singles nudged the UK Top 50 and several European countries (notably France) succumbed to the group's sound.
Whipping Boy completed a European Tour with Lou Reed as well as headlining tours of their own in the UK, the last of which culminated in a sold-out show at London's Astoria venue. Despite huge critical acclaim, sales of Heartworm did not meet expectations and the band parted company with Sony in 1996. With the band beginning to disintegrate, they recorded their final album in 2000, literally splitting up on the final day of recording in acrimonious circumstances. The album was given a limited release in April 2001, but with little promotion, their final offering disappeared without trace.
After a 6 year absence the band reformed in November 2005 to play a series of dates in Ireland. All's well that ends??
