Eoghan McDermott Interview

Eoghan McDermott looks ever so slightly flustered when he greets Hot Press in the lobby of the RTÉ Radio Centre. As well he might. The 32-year- old Dubliner had been due to take over Colm Hayes’ coveted RTÉ 2fm drivetime slot in mid-September. At the very last moment, the station management changed their minds and decided to start him immediately.
His debut show went out at 4.30pm yesterday, and apparently went very well. The second goes out in just a few hours. Understandably, McDermott is feeling the pressure. Still, not too much. The 2fm show is just the latest in a long line of high profile media gigs for the tall, handsome and cartoonishly-quiffed broadcaster, who first came to wider public attention as one of the presenters of The Voice of Ireland. Prior to that he had been making waves in the UK as an award-winning DJ with London’s Xfm.
He’s the older brother of Hot Press’ film critic Roe McDermott, but this is only the second occasion we’ve met. The first was a few months back in Vancouver, when we were both covering the opening night of U2’s iNNOCENCE + eXPERIENCE tour. Funny, charming and self-deprecating, he was very good company on that trip.
OLAF TYARANSEN: What’s your earliest memory?
EOGHAN MCDERMOTT: Although I’m not 100% sure, it’s being on holidays in Clare with the parents and my cousin Dave. I was about three. Mam is an Irish teacher so she’s into Irish history, and dad is into old Irish architecture and ruins. So I think it’s Clare, and I think there’s some dolmen remains. I’ve seen photos and you know the way you double guess yourself, “I think I can actually remember that.”
Do you come from a big family?
No. I’ve two sisters – one older, one younger – which will throw me into middle child syndrome territory, but that’s negated by the fact that I’m the only boy.
Where did you grow up?
I was born in Limerick, and stayed there for all of two weeks, and then grew up in Firhouse in South Dublin until I was about 10, and then moved to Knocklyon, which is only a stone’s throw down the road.
Was it a privileged upbringing?
Mam and Dad are both teachers, and the thing with teachers is that you’re never really rich and you’re never really poor. They were amazing. They’ve been exceptionally generous from childhood right through to when I moved to New York to go to a performing arts college. Having done an arts degree, and having said I was maybe going to go into education, I waltzed home and said, “Hey Mam and Dad, I’m going to move to New York and be a dancer!” I’d say most parents would cry and wonder where they went wrong. Mine were immensely supportive. Anyone who’s ever dabbled in education in America will know it’s not cheap, and they funded that. They paid the fees – and I took out a big loan to pay rent and feed myself.
Was your family religious at all?
No. Mam was raised in a super strident Catholic household, and Dad too. But Dad has
a lot of brothers and they were all raised in Christian Brother schools. Dad, now, is making a documentary for Radio 1 about his two sisters who both were in convents and left. In that recording it’s brought up some of the old Christian Brother stories from school because he’s talked to a lot of the brothers as well. There’s a very healthy disdain for all things Catholic Church, particularly on the McDermott side of the family.
Is your dad a broadcaster as well?
No, he was a secondary school teacher. Then he retired and moved to Abu Dhabi, and they were implementing a new education syllabus and he was part of that team. He just started recording bits over there, particularly about Arab women and their place in society. He said they were very reluctant to speak initially, but that once they realised that his intentions were noble, I suppose, they opened up a bit. He found that fascinating. Then he just started toying with different ideas. He had one sister who was in a convent and was asked to leave – she wasn’t nun material. The other left of her own accord. He just thought that was a really interesting idea. He pitched it to RTE and they commissioned it.
What age were you when you had your first drink?
Oh man! It was awful! I’m going to say I was 14 and I had a pal called Liam from Templeogue College, where I was up to junior cycle. He came over and we went to some disco – I can’t remember – it was near Christmas. Mam and Dad collected us and brought us home and they went to bed, and we were allowed to watch a video. I don’t know who suggested it, myself or Liam, but we said, “Let’s have a drink!” I didn’t even know the difference between beers and spirits – that’s how naïve we were. So we opened up the drinks cabinet, and there were all kinds of sprits in there. I think we got out two glasses and made a cocktail of all different spirits and downed it.
Ouch!
Yeah (laughs). Obviously, within about 10 minutes we were not feeling great. And then I said, “I feel sick,” and then Liam said, “I feel sick as well,” so then we said, “Let’s go out and get some air.” Climbed out the window and stumbled down the road and the next thing I know is that I woke up in Tallaght hospital with Mam and Dad in the room, distraught.
What had happened?
I had my stomach pumped and at that stage I was a bit discombobulated, but I managed to string together, “Where’s Liam?” They hadn’t found Liam yet. The Gardai were out, Liam’s parents were out and my big sister and her then-boyfriend actually found him in a phone box – with his pants around his ankles. So, that was my first experience with drink. After that, I didn’t really go near drink until I was about 18.
What age were you when you lost your virginity?
Eighteen. The first girl I ever kissed was when I was 13. I was on a beach in Italy with the moon shining on the water and I thought, “I’m a Lothario for life, man! This is how I’m going to roll.” That was not the case at all – very unsmooth. Eighteen, to my girlfriend, we’d gone out for a good few months and it was all very pleasant. No major mishaps.
Have you ever had a gay experience?
No, never had a gay experience. I’ve never been that way inclined.
No one’s ever tried it on with you?
Oh yeah, yeah. Does that count as a gay experience?
I’m just thinking of that dance school in New York...
In New York, I lived with an Irish guy who was flamboyantly gay. Because my application came through very late I had no accommodation sorted. It was like (panicked voice): “Oh shit! I’m going in two days!” I knew this guy sort of peripherally, a friend of a friend, and he said, “Look, stay with me until you find a place.” He had this little bedsit in Sunset Park in Brooklyn; it was a rough-ass place, but I had no option. He was amazing and we’re still friends. But he was a flamboyantly gay guy and he only had a small little single bed so the two of us had to hop in it, you know? That’s probably my closest gay experience.
Have you ever experimented with illegal drugs?
I smoked weed in college, once or twice when it was passed around. Didn’t like it, don’t like it. Never done any hard drugs. None of my friends really do drugs, and I’ve never really been offered hard drugs.
Really?
Once or twice. I was in Berlin a while ago for work, and we were out in a few bars and got talking to random people. I think it’s really open and maybe more socially acceptable there: it seemed that everyone was kind of freely offering and there was that feeling of, “We are a community of drugs users.” I’ve never really been offered drugs in Dublin. I know people, peripherally, who take drugs. I know one or two friends that have tried different things, but I don’t have any friends who use drugs regularly and I’ve got a reasonably broad selection of friends. Not my bag.
Where did you go to university?
I did politics and Irish in UCD. At that stage I thought I was going to be a garda...
What was the appeal there?
I don’t know. I definitely didn’t want an office job and, like I said, I enjoyed languages and stuff.
You don’t strike me as being particularly tough.
Maybe I would have been a fantastic detective. I had a few family members in the Gardaí and they were never bored. That’s one of the things I think I’m most scared of: being bored. I get antsy and angst-y if I’m doing the same thing for too long. I will say about the Gardaí that you probably see the worst of humanity, which I’d say could be grinding. But you’d never be bored.
When did the dance thing come in?
In college. I took part in a charity fashion show and there was a group of dancers and I thought, “They are having unbelievable craic! I wanna do that!” I auditioned for the next year and didn’t get in. Then I was taking all these different classes and there were two dancers in that fashion show who are not on anybody’s radar. Eimear is from Bray. She choreographed The Voice UK; choreographed Kelly Rowland off the back of The X Factor. She did a big musical on the West End called Into The Woods – she’s amazing! And John, from Monkstown in Dublin. He’s danced for Beyonce, he’s danced for the Black Eyed Peas, and he’s danced for Mariah Carey. The only people he hasn’t danced for I think are Lady Gaga and Justin Bieber. But they don’t really get any recognition here because it’s not a big industry. But they were in the fashion show and I idolised them for a while. They went to the school I went to in New York a year earlier.
What was the school?
The Broadway Dance Centre. John did an arts degree, Eimear did a law degree, and they moved to New York, then to Los Angeles and spiralled out from there. So, I tried to follow their path. I went to London and took lots of classes. I was in LA for a while, and took a few classes, and then was teaching in Dublin, making a bit of money off it and thought, “OK, we’ll give it a go.”
You were teaching dance?
I think a lot of people thought it had a bit of a camp vibe about it for guys, and then Justin Timberlake brought out his first music video as a solo artist, ‘Like I Love You’. It was just three guys dancing in a car park. Really syncopated, cool dancing and it was really masculine. That brought a whole new wave of guys to dancing. So I said, “That’s what I want to do.”
Did you graduate from the dance school?
Yeah. I wound up staying for a year, but money ran out.
Is it true that you danced for Rihanna?
That’s a very flattering misconception that might be on my Wikipedia page (laughs). No, I choreographed some singers when I came home, and we did some support shows for artists. The biggest one – this was pre-Rihanna’s incident with Chris Brown – was we did the UK and Ireland tour with him. That was amazing. It was with this singer Shelly, who didn’t end up doing the business, but it was an incredible experience. And, Chris, actually, was a gentleman. Everyone always asked, “Was he an asshole?” He was the nicest, most polite man and had incredible amounts of time for everybody. And Rihanna was there. She came to the Dublin show, and they were besotted. Yeah, it was weird. Off the back of that I was asked to audition for a drama series TG4 had called Seacht, about a performing arts school. It was kind of like Skins in a performing arts school – at least that was the pitch. That got me on TG4.
So you got out of dance and went into acting?
To be fair, I was good. However, if I wanted to break through to another level I would have had to put in way more time in America.
Were you always physically fit?
I used to play ice hockey for Ireland, which is a random one. We were awful. We were like the Jamaican bobsleigh team! I used to roller-blade a lot, back when kids used to roller-blade all the time. Then I started playing in-line hockey in what is now the Dundrum Town Centre – there was a roller rink in that patch. From there I joined Dublin Flyers, which came out of what is now Des Kelly Carpets on the North Circular Road. It was a little crappy ice rink, about a fifth the size of a regulation ice rink. It was really awful. There was an American guy who was studying in the Royal College of Surgeons who was a former semi-pro player and he happened on us. He decided to take everybody under his wing.
There’s a movie in that.
There is (laughs). In about three years he’d turned us into the first Irish national ice hockey team. We went to Sofia in 1999 and our first ever- international match was against the Netherlands. The average score in a hockey match might be six or seven goals; we lost 42–nil! An ice hockey game is only 60 minutes so that’s a goal every... 80 seconds?
Obviously there’s not much mercy in the ice hockey world.
The next year we played Iceland: lost again. However, we were level for about 40 minutes. So we progressed quickly. But I found out dancing and ice hockey are not really mutual bedfellows.
Well, surely the potential for serious injury is ever present in ice hockey...
I knocked my jaw out once. That was the worst injury I sustained.
Anyway, you got the TG4 gig...
I did Seacht on TG4. That was amazing. However, I was an awful actor. Jesus, I was terrible. I did that. And then they had a music show, Pop4, and I was asked would I be interested in doing it. I took that. Then Spin in Dublin said, “We’re doing a little Irish show on Saturday mornings.” I said ‘yes’ to that as well. Then I progressed to an English language weekend brunch show. The boss of Xfm in London had been headhunted by Denis O’Brien to set up a pop music station in Jordan. He got asked to go back to Dublin and take care of Spin. He liked what I was doing. He was then asked to take over Xfm, the network, and said, “Pack up sonny!”
You haven't exactly had to struggle!
No (laughs). Well, London was a struggle, Xfm was a struggle.
In what way?
I had a terrible break-up of a relationship that just put me in a really shitty mood for about a year. I moved over to London, and my head just wasn’t in the game. I was distracted. If I hadn’t been close to my boss I think he would have fired me in the first year. It was awful.
What kind of stuff were you doing?
My first big interview that I was gifted, was to go to Santa Barbara to interview the Chili Peppers when they released I’m With You in 2011. But it was an hour interview. That just blew my mind – to sit down with Anthony Kiedis for an hour and just shoot the shit, and with the rest of the lads. It was awful. I can't describe how distracted I was in life at the time. I just didn’t care. It should have been the best thing that had happened, and I was incoherent. I had a thread in my mind and didn’t really execute it. Subsequently I’ve done some lovely interviews that I still have on my show-reel but that was a massive fail. Then it kind of kicked into gear and I finished on an absolute high.
Why did you leave Xfm?
I got offered a gig on a bigger station, which I took and kind of left in a blaze of glory: “See ya later, fuckers!” I got offered a weekend gig on Capital and I said, “Yeah, if that’s a stepping stone of course I’ll take it.” So I handed in my notice at Xfm, it was all amicable. But then, if you move to a new company you have to do an off-air mandatory period. During that period, I hadn’t signed a contract and naively didn’t have a manager yet in the UK, and the boss of Capital got fired – I still don’t really know why. When the new boss came in I didn’t know him, he didn’t know me.
Not good.
So I met the overlord of the whole company and he said, “Look, you’ve done well and the numbers are good, I don’t know what we’re going to do, but don’t fret.” Then The Voice had kicked in back home, and I was piloting a lot of stuff for Channel 4. It was all quite busy: I did a little series for Channel 5. So I was kind of going, “This is fine, I’ll slot back into radio as and when it happens. For now I’ll focus on the telly.” And then it all started to get busy here, so I put all my stuff in storage and came home.
What was the Channel 5 show?
It was terrible. A celebrity salon kind of thing. I thought, “Fuck it, we’ll get the foot in the door in the UK on telly,” you know? The head of Channel 4 is this very formidable lady called Jay Hunt, she’s kind of this Devil Wears Prada type – what’s her name?
Anna Wintour.
Yeah, she’s the Anna Wintour of the TV world.
I was doing a pilot for Channel 4 and she arrived unannounced and the whole place went into meltdown. It was very funny. I didn’t really know that was her reputation at that point. She sat in on the run-through, it didn’t get commissioned but it was a nice show. She sent an email to my agent saying, “I really like Eoghan, we’ll find something for him, keep me posted on what he’s doing.”
So, I kind of felt like it was all going in the right direction. But I was offered this gig and I accepted it and am very excited about it. So I guess I’m here now for the foreseeable future.
How did your first show go?
It was supposed to start September 14 and it started, what date was yesterday? The 24th. The boss rang because I have a couple of one-off TV things coming up – I’m doing the Electric Picnic and I have a one-off thing for TG4 – so there’s a couple of days I have to be as lathair here and there. He said, “Well there’s no point in starting and not being on, so we’ll start on the 14th.” Then he rang and said, “Actually we’ve reconsidered. I think it’s better to have you on and if you have to take a few days off, then fuck it. So you’re on on Monday!” It’s probably more a work in progress now than an opening statement of intent.
You’re not really nervous about these things at this point are you?
No, no. I like radio. I think you can own radio in a way you can’t own TV unless you’re doing a documentary or a Louis Theroux or a John Oliver thing. The entertainment TV I have been doing – you can’t really own that, because you have to conform to what the format is rather than come up with your own little world. I love radio, and I think I’m good at it. I’m not saying everyone will like it, but the type of radio I’m doing, I think I do it well.
Any truth to the rumours about yourself and Laura Whitmore having been romantically involved a couple of years ago?
No, no (laughs). No, Laura’s awesome – she’s incredible. I think most people would acknowledge that she’s smoking hot. But, no – whatever psychological impediment it is that would stop you fancying your sister, it’s that.
But you are good friends?
Absolutely, yeah. When I moved to London I ended up taking over the lease on her apartment when she bought a house, and we lived very close to each other. She’s been amazing. I thought London was awful at first, but she was incredible. We’re famously a begrudging race, but her life is so outrageous if you look at it online – she literally lives the dream – and so maybe she comes across as a bit cool for school. In reality, she’s one of the warmest and most generous people, and she’s got a really close circle of friends. And she loves her mammy. She’s just a lovely person.
When VIP publisher Michael O’Doherty criticised her in his Herald column, you wrote an open letter to him...
Good old Michael. I kind of like Michael. I’d still kick him in the shin if I saw him, but I kind of like him as a court jester. The same way as we’re all probably a bit court jester-y, you know? The reason I wrote that particular letter was because I genuinely thought he believed what he was saying. I just thought, you can’t be a purveyor of shit celebrity gossip and then criticise a probably more prominent Irish celebrity than the ones you would feature in the magazine that makes you your money. I think I wrote in the letter, either he’s the greatest satirist we have, unacknowledged, or he’s just a fucking idiot. I think, in that instance, I was leaning towards the latter.
You’re good mates with Kodaline?
We did their first very TV interview, before they had any songs on the radio, at Indiependence a couple of years ago on Pop4. Then they moved to London and Irish people just gravitate towards each other. It’s just a case of, “I’m Irish, you’re Irish – let’s hang out!" We had some grand old times. I think Kodaline caused me to get evicted from my house in Queen’s Park.
Explain!
Well, I lived in Queen’s Park for a while, in North West London in this house that I had no right to be in. I couldn’t afford it. A friend of a friend had got me a room in it. Kodaline played the Roundhouse in Camden one night and we ended up going out and getting rollickingly drunk. We went back to mine and were playing the piano and singing and drinking. One of the lads fell asleep on the kitchen table, face-planted. Kate, who owned the house, came down and was horrified to see all these strangers in the house and one lad passed out on the table. So she asked me to leave about three weeks later. She was furious, livid. She had asked us to quiet down and we were all, “Yeah, yeah of course!” – but then we were having such a good time that we just didn’t. I apologised the next day and bought her a huge bouquet of flowers and chocolates and the whole shebang, and it was fine. But, I think that really sowed the seed and then three weeks later... I lay that at the Kodaline door.
Did you know One Direction were going to split up?
I knew they weren’t going to tour the next album so I assumed that implied... I don’t think it’s any big secret.
How did you become friendly with Niall Horan?
London! “You’re Irish, I’m Irish – let’s hang out!”... same again. It started with Bressie. Bressie’s a coach on The Voice. Bressie’s from Mullingar, Niall is from Mullingar, I think they’re family or friends or whatever. I met him out in a pub. I went on Brendan O’Connor one time and I don’t even know why they asked me on, because I’m on The Voice or whatever, and same again – like the Red Hot Chili Peppers thing, it was kind of – there was a few really good stories from London. I didn’t tell you the good story – I’ll come back to that! But anyway, I had some really good London stories and I thought that if he asked me, “What are you up to at the moment?”
I could give him some really entertaining stories that would justify me being there. Because people love to go, “What the fuck is he doing?” Not about me personally, but about any guest who comes on any show, you know, in Ireland? But all he asked me about was Niall Horan! And now with any journalist it’s kind of the standard, “You know Niall Horan!” Which is, fucking hell, it’s pretty depressing after a while to be defined by...
Well, I’m not defining you by that.
No, no, no – I know! Niall’s just an ordinary dude in an extraordinary situation. He’s very low-key. He’s seen the whole world. He’s about a decade older than he is in reality. He’s lived 20 lives at this stage, and has had to grow up very quickly in business terms. He’s just a good dude. But on Brendan O’Connor I thought, “If he asks anything about my life, I’ll give him something interesting,” and all he wants to talk about is Niall Horan. In the end of it, on Twitter it was, “Look at that dickhead, all he can talk about is Niall Horan.” It’s not me!
Do you enjoy Twitter?
Yeah, I don’t use it as much anymore. I think a bit of Twitter fatigue has set in. I more just observe than tweet. I used to tweet 30 times a day, now just the odd thing.
What’s been the lowest point of your life?
I did some stuff with Pieta House off the back of being a little bit depressed and a little brush with self-harm. That period, right before I moved to London.
You posted a YouTube confessional about that period...
Yeah. I was asked to go to a launch for Pieta House – you know, “He was on The Voice, we might get a picture in the paper.” Then just listening to all the ambassadors talk about all the work they were doing, I felt a bit disingenuous about being there, but not being honest about my own stuff. So then I went away and thought about it for a couple of weeks. Then I said “Fuck it,” if I’m going to be involved, I may as well be truthfully involved. So I did that little YouTube confessional just to say, “This is what happened to me.”
There was quite a reaction.
It was unbelievable, man. I think when anyone does anything in that confessional vein, people are always nice and supportive. I was surprised at the amount of people who came out of the woodwork that I would consider successful, cool, grounded people – who said, “Yeah, me too.” Like I had a couple of people on The Voice, kind of working in the background team. There was this girl – she’s a model, so beautiful, she’s got it all going on and she’s a really nice person. I don’t really know that many people in that world. But she came out, just reached out, with this horrific story. Even in my own family, a couple of people came forward saying they’d had a brush with this, that, and the other. Kids writing to me, teenagers – one girl said she was going to commit suicide and then saw the video and thought, “I’m gonna go and talk with someone and get a little bit of help.” I’m not trying to pat myself on the back because that sort of shit happens every day with unsung heroes everywhere. When you have first-hand experience of it, ah it’s amazing.
You began self-harming after your relationship broke up?
That was the root of it. A bad breakup. And that person is amazing – she’s a wonderful person. There’s no badness in her – I was just devastated.
I guess I had a nice, easy, privileged upbringing, never any emotional turmoil. I was 26 then, maybe, and just nothing bad had really happened to me. I just didn’t have any capability to cope with negative emotions.
You’re quite a cheerful type generally.
Yeah, default position is pretty happy (smiles widely). I’ve had a good run.
When was the last time you cried?
Jesus, last time I actually cried? That video is like a year-and-a-half ago at this stage. Probably when I got that letter off that girl. She was from Meath, about 15. Just... aw man! The self-loathing was awful. At the end, she said she was going to do something positive: that kind of overwhelmed me.
That was it.
Are you in a relationship at the moment?
Yeah, with a lovely girl. I met her in a bar. I actually didn’t think people met in bars anymore.
Were you on Tinder prior to this relationship?
I went on a Tinder date in London with a girl who was Rihanna. I mean she was Rihanna’s doppelganger. She was from Barbados and she was a lawyer for this big financial firm and we got to chatting on Tinder. She brought me to this bar in South Kensington, Buddha Bar – lovely food, had a few cocktails and at the end she goes, “Do you want to do a shot?” I says, “Yeah, I’ll do a shot." The bill comes, and the shots were £200 each! It was like this limited edition Patron stuff. So with the shots and the dinner and a few drinks as well the bill was over £600!
Who paid the bill?
Oh, I paid the bill. I had to man up. I don’t even think she was being a bitch or a gold digger – that was just her world.
What makes your blood boil?
The comment section on online articles. I think loads of people are rubbish! But I would never take the time to go online to say, “Hey Olaf! You’re a cunt!”
Oh, so that wasn’t you?
Agh! It was me! (laughs). I just don’t understand it. I don’t understand those people. And I’m not even talking about me personally because I get loads of grief. But then I get loads of people saying lovely things and I don’t take either of them seriously. You see people who get compliments and they retweet them all the time. I don’t place any stock in people who go, “You’re my favourite presenter!” Nor do I place any stock in people who go, “I fucking hate you! Get out of my life.”
Has that stuff ever bothered you?
At the start it did. There was one fucking nasty guy at The Mirror who did a piece when I first got The Voice. He went back through my old tweets and found some tweets from years ago that had bad language in them and unsavoury language. It was just a real stitch-up job you know, “Look at this foul mouthed new RTÉ presenter!” It was a full page. I was going, “You’re a grown adult. This is your career? This is what your life’s work is all about?” I just fucking can’t understand that kind of thing.
Speaking of tweets, you deleted a tweet you’d posted that was critical of RTÉ policy during the same-sex marriage referendum...
Yeeeeah... (laughs). That has been put to bed.
What are your ambitions for the show?
2fm was obsolete for a long time – not obsolete but I think it lost its way a bit. It’s easy to criticise, because it’s RTÉ and RTÉ is publicly funded. For a long time 2fm didn’t cost any money: 2fm made money for RTÉ. Then there was a little period of a few years where it lost money and people were gunning for it. It’s turned that corner again where it will be a contributor and free from criticism.
I guess I want it to be firing on all cylinders. Hopefully, I’m not by any way shape or form an intellectual. I love silly radio and a bit of mischief. Also, I’m really interested in what’s going on in the world and I want to pull a bit of that in.
In what way?
I’ve got a guy I love talking to, who writes for Slate magazine in the United States. He’s this young, liberal, gay, brilliantly intelligent guy called Mark Stern – I love having him on. I love Blindboy from the Rubberbandits, I think he’s got a very skewed, tuned-in view on what’s going on. I hope to have him on every week to give his opinion on news and current affairs stuff. I want it to be silly and fun and current, like any show wants to be. I really want to champion Irish music, there’s just so much good music that doesn’t get a look in.
Do you have a motto in life?
No (laughs). I don’t have a particular motto in life that I’d get tattooed on my arm but just... “Don’t be a bollocks!” That’s it.