Let’s talk about pop.
Shaun Robinson is desperately trying to think of the songs that make him whistle in the shower.
“’The Model’ by Kraftwerk,” he says after a long, pained pause. “‘She Loves You’ by The Beatles, 99 Red Balloons’ by Nina and I suppose ‘Toxic’ by Britney Spears. Could you call ‘Crash’ by The Primitives a pop song?”
Rocky O’Reilly is finding it an even more gruelling struggle.
“I don’t really know about pop? I’m into punk-pop,” he admits. “The first single by All-American Rejects was amazing. I can’t really think of many more. I’ve never really listened to music made before the early ‘90s.”
Everybody should know by now that captives in Guantanamo Bay probably have a broader frame of musical reference than most Belfast indie bands. Some brave souls have spent years trawling the various new band nights around town in search of a memorable tune, only to come to the dispiriting conclusion that, for the average plebeian guitar band, a song isn’t an opportunity to communicate through poetry and melody; it’s just something to keep them occupied while they’re on stage.
Robinson and O’Reilly have been active participants in the Belfast music scene for a long time now. Both are occasional members of Torgas Valley Reds. Robinson was around in the Jurassic era with Backwater; O'Reilly has been a visible presence behind sound desks for year. You would wonder if they’ve fallen victim to this widespread failure of imagination and nerve.
However, even a briefest encounter with the music the pair have recently conjured up as Oppenheimer will allay any such fears.
We’re talking about an approach that’s warm, upbeat, electronically driven but organic feeling. We’re talking about rolling melodies and lovely, chin-up choruses. We’re, in all seriousness, talking about pop.
“None of the songs last four minutes,” reveals O’Reilly. “Most come in around the three minute mark, but we’ve a few that are just over a minute. It’s the way we like it.”
“’Love Me Do’ clocked in at a minute 50,” adds Robinson. “Some of the early Elvis songs are the same. You don’t have to hang around for that long to make an impression.”
The freshness of the songs is surprising considering how long their creators have been active at the coal-face.
Given the bouncy, young-at-heart nature of the music, anyone unfamiliar with Oppenheimer’s background would assume it’s the work of clear-eyed newcomers.
For Robinson, taking lead vocals after a career banging drums, the protean nature of the new set-up has influenced the buoyant feel of the material.
“I’ve never really sang before. I used to get wheeled out for the daft cover versions. Other than that, I’ve never harboured any desire to be a singer. But, for whatever reason, it just seemed like a good idea and something worth giving a try.”
“I’ve been writing instrumental electronic stuff for quite a while but haven’t got a note in my head,” says O’Reilly. “So, I was always looking out for someone who could add vocals. I got talking to Shaun about it and it just kind of happened. It’s worked out really well. ”
“In my head, I always fancied the idea of creating a kind of fantasy punk-rock Kraftwerk and wanted to call them Death Before Disco,” Robinson continues, “but nothing really came of it. Then, when I started to talk to Rocky, it became clear we had the same kind of ideas about things. It was all very natural.”
And the duo plan to continue along in this productively intuitive vein. They’re looking forward to a number of upcoming live shows, and have an album’s worth of material in the locker that, according to Rocky “we just love”.
Aside from that, though, you will be hard pressed to find Oppenheimer delivering any grand statements of intent.
“We’re just going to see where it leads us”, says Robinson. “But I’m really happy with how it’s panning out. Although it’s electronically based, we are really careful about bringing a warmth and personality to the music.”
“There are a lot of acoustic guitars in there,” he says. “Rocky loves his analogue equipment and we’re pretty relaxed when it comes to improvising in the studio. There was a track recently that we were working on and we just couldn’t get it right. Rocky, out of desperation, muted the drums and all of a sudden it was a different song and we changed it around. We’re flexible that way. I mean I love those Tom Waits songs where you hear a cock crow in the background. I like that kind of personality in records.”