- Music
- 10 Feb 10
How the sickness and tragic death of a sibling helped Geoff Gatt find his voice as an artist
While most debut records (if they’re lucky) mark the point at which an artist stumble upon their true voice, Ten Year Road sees Geoff Gatt already in powerfully eloquent form.
Forget talk of finding musical feet, staking out territory or establishing a personality. Spend an hour in the company of these songs and, trust me, by the end, it’ll seem like you know this guy back to front.
More than that: so open, honest and emotionally truthful is this album, as the last note fades away, you’ll feel like Geoff’s your best mate ever.
When, over a bowl of soup and a coffee, he explains how the record, “sums up the last ten years of my life,” the cynical may assume it’s a typical soundbite from a callow newcomer.
Actually, Ten Year Road is unmistakably the product of some serious experiences. Ostensibly a record about growing up, the most powerful moments arrive when Gatt writes and sings about his twin brother, Chris whose illness and tragic death forms the intense thematic bedrock of the record.
In conversation it would hardly be a surprise if Geoff decided to sidestep such painful subject matter. As it is, he proves every bit as open and unflinching his songs.
“We were from West Belfast and when we were growing up we just wanted to be mods,” he says. “It’s a hard place to be different. We gave it a go. Ideally, we wanted to be a Who tribute band. Chris was a great drummer. Nobody was interested. I was writing songs, but we were doing other things too: cabaret, comedy, Pete and Dud kind of things. It was great fun.“
When Chris fell sick, Geoff became his principle carer. It was a role he occupied for the rest of his brother’s life.
“It was an incredibly extreme and difficult time,” he says. “But rewarding too.”
Given the intensity of the experience, it’s little wonder that afterwards Geoff admits to feeling lost.
“What do you say? I think there’s a reason to these things. Chris’s attitude towards life was really inspiring, and while it sustained me after he died, I was basically very frightened. I had some fairly low times. I always felt that I’d get through it. In fact, in a funny way I feel blessed by the experience. I always remember someone saying to me – I hope you make friends who feel like family. Funnily enough, that’s exactly what happened.”
A compulsive busker, Chris hooked up with various waifs and strays from the Belfast music community. It was only when he was persuaded to enrol in university that the songs that make up Ten Year Road began to take shape.
“Looking after Chris had been so all-consuming that when it was over, I was at a complete loss. I took an A-Level, did some voluntary work, but none of it really worked. Then someone suggested I go to university. I’d never really been academic, but I gave it a go, and I have to say when I went to Queen’s, it felt like my life opened up.”
With the best of intentions, Ten Year Road could easily have buckled under its heavy subtext. It’s a testament to Geoff’s big hearted approach (and his very obvious love of early Floyd, the Kinks and Daltrey and co) that, ultimately, it’s an affirmative rather than mournful experience.
“It’s not all heavy,” he concludes. “If you look at anyone’s life. There are ups and downs. And I feel very happy at the moment. It’s almost like I’ve been able to use these experiences and not let them go to waste. I feel lighter almost. I’m very proud of the record. I hope people will listen to these songs and get something from them.”