The history of record companies set up by artists is not an illustrious one. The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, U2, Moody Blues and many others all started labels which began with high hopes and eventually faded. Only trumpeter Herb Alpert (who was the “A” in A&M) can lay claim to have been a successful poacher turned successful gamekeeper.

But here in Ireland we have one major success story in this area. It’s Kieran Goss, whose Cog Communications has seen him release his own albums and put his office and experience at the disposal of Luka Bloom and Jimmy MacCarthy for their own album releases.

The success of Goss as writer, performer and businessman is celebrated in the release of his 18-track compilation Out Of My Head-The Best Of Kieran Goss. Spanning a fifteen year career, it’s his sixth album in a series that includes one album with Frances Black and four solo albums of his majestic and melodic pop songs and artful ballads.

His 1998 album Worse Than Pride gave him his biggest hit to date in ‘Out Of My Head’ which, with its radio-friendly hooks, was a classy helping of near-perfect country-tinged pop. That album, was recorded in a small bedroom in his Dublin house and released on his own label, yet it went on to achieve double-platinum status, a remarkable achievement.

But Goss, who qualified as a solicitor before taking to the music road, is fully sure that the artist who tries to trade on the other side of the fence can risk becoming a businessman first and a musician some way behind.

“For me I have to make sure that the marketing takes second place to the creative work,” he emphasises. “I’ve always wanted my music to have integrity and to be able to record and gig and write on my own terms. But there was a time when the business nearly took over completely and I resolved that problem by having someone else come in to take care of business so I could get back to writing and playing.”

Another apparent conflict on Planet Goss is the sharp contrast between live shows, which are full of self-deprecatingly funny stories and quips and albums which are serious affairs.

“That’s true,” he concedes, “but I’ve never for a second considered bringing that humour onto the records. In fact I think I tended to overdo the comedy on stage for a while to the detriment of the music. There was a danger of me being seen as a comedian who just played a few songs between jokes, and I decided to ease off on the funny stuff.”

But then Goss should know that comedy can be a dangerous territory, since he was once upstaged at a gig by Billy Connolly who was merely looking after the raffle.

“That’s right! I was doing a gig on one the Aran Islands and Billy was spotted in the audience by somebody who thought they’d ask him to draw the winning raffle tickets. Normally this should take a couple of minutes, but one of the prizes was a rucksack and Billy turned it into a hilarious 45-minute comedy routine which had them rolling around the place. The rucksack was won by an elderly lady and he made her put it on and march up and down while the audience sang that song ‘The Happy Wanderer’! It was impossible for me to get back to just singing straight songs after that. He’s the funniest person I’ve ever met.”

The terminally lazy may have filed Goss under ‘Irish Folk’ partly due to his earlier incarnation in a duo with Frances Black, but those who listen with both ears will know that Goss compositions like ‘Out Of My Head’, ‘Reasons To Leave’, ‘Worse Than Pride’ and ‘I Close My Eyes’ owe more to the class and polish of The Beatles and contemporary acts like Ron Sexsmith, Aimee Mann or Ryan Adams than to the Irish folk tradition.

Goss agrees. “I loved the Beatles and I’ve always been fascinated by chord structures as opposed to solo guitar technique. Melodies are important too, and intelligent lyrics. The Beatles inspired me to want to write good lyrics. So even if I don’t like a particular piece of music, or even a certain style, I can still find something in maybe an effective chord sequence or a neat couple of lines in the lyrics.”

Goss admits that a part of him is commercially driven. “But”, he also insists, “another part of me isn’t. That part of me refuses to do something just to get a record on the radio or just to get it in the charts.”

Indeed, as Kieran discovered, there can be such a thing as too much exposure.

“The success of the ‘Out Of My Head’ single was one of the highlights for me, to hear it so many times on the radio over a long period of time, and especially after being told by virtually every record company in Ireland that there were no singles on the album. But when I released the follow-up ‘Lucille’, my PR man Denis O’Reilly had a hard time trying to stop radio programmes playing ‘Out Of My Head’ and getting them to play the new single instead. Brendan Murphy of The 4 Of Us who told me they’d had the same problem with their hit ‘Mary’. I suppose it’s a good problem when you’re trying to get them to stop playing a record, but you can’t have it both ways! (laughs).

Another high spot for Goss as a writer was his collaboration with Texan singer-performer Rodney Crowell, author of songs recorded by Willie Nelson, Bob Seger, Emmylou Harris, Rosanne Cash and myriad others. That collaboration produced ‘Reasons To Leave (Heaven On Earth)’.

“I believe people will be singing that song in fifty years time”, Goss confidently avers. “Sometimes you write a song and feel that you’ve really nailed something. But writing a song about emigration can very quickly become a cliché. In fact Mickey McConnell has a great phrase for it. He says that ‘it can wander into being the continuity Wolfe Tones’. That’s a brilliant way to put it! But I had the complete melody and the title before I worked on it with Rodney and his advice was to keep it personal, don’t try to make a big statement. We finished it in three hours and I knew then it was something special and I didn’t care if nobody else in the world liked it. I’m proud of it.”

Not that there haven’t been down moments for Goss over the years. “Having options can often take your focus off what you really want to do. There was that period before the release of Worse Than Pride when I couldn’t get any record company to take me seriously. I remember telling myself then that I had a good knowledge of the law and music publishing and royalties and all that stuff and that I could probably make a good living as a music industry lawyer. That was a distraction, a moment of weakness, because I knew in my gut I didn’t really want to do that. So I discussed it with my wife and her advice was to do what I really wanted to do but to be prepared to pay the price if there were problems along the way.”

That domestic tête-a-tête clarified Goss’ thinking and stiffened his resolve. In time he also became aware that in running your own label and office you often need to be as creative as you have to be as an artist.

“Record companies seem to simply do what they always do for every release,” he observes. “They rarely try anything inventive or try to break the mould. So ultimately I see no compromise in being an artist and running my own music company.”

Goss agrees with my suggestion that there’s a powerful myth that says that somehow you are a better artist if you’re struggling and poor and a victim to boot. “Being a victim is an attractive role for a lot of musicians. It’s a cop-out because you can put all your failings down to somebody else. It’s easy to say ‘it’s their fault, not mine’. I think you have to take responsibility for your own career,” he says.

As to the general state of the Irish music scene, Goss believes we’re in the midst of huge change. “It’s like a mini-revolution. It has never been easier for anyone to make a record in their own attic and stick it out. But taking the next step in terms of putting your hopes and dreams and your money and your career on the line for that record is a much more daunting move.

“So the biggest challenge for people like me releasing their own record is to accept that there are other things you have to do if you want to get that music into people’s homes. The rules for achieving that, such as radio play, keep changing, and artists have to be aware of those changes and adapt accordingly or fail. Otherwise you’d be better off making your record and playing it at home to your mates.”