"We’re from the Border. Every time we apply to the North for help they tell us we’re from the South. Every time we apply to the South, they say we’re from the North. But we’re stubborn bastards – we don’t care. We just get on with it. And you never know – we could turn out to be real dark horses.”

Spend a bit of time shooting the breeze with John Dinsmore and you’ll grow accustomed to his defiant urge to confound expectations. As you would expect of someone in the final stages of a PhD in Psychology, The Beat Poets’ front man is entertaining, provocative and clued-in company. But there’s also a glint in his eye that hints at a hardwired streak of determination. And which helps explain how, despite run-ins with pernicious funding bodies, iffy management firms, aggressive drinkers, apathetic audiences, and even the odd arsonist, The Beat Poets are still fighting the good fight, and eager to prove themselves as worthy contenders.
Our story begins just around two years ago, when four childhood friends from Warrenpoint, fed up with the direction their band at the time (Elation) were heading, decided to rip it up and start the whole thing off again. Songs were ditched, new roles assigned, and a conscious effort was made to vacate the comfort zone they’d previously inhabited.
Little did they know what strange plot developments and odd locations that lay in wait.
“The only practice space we could afford was in a factory just off Carlisle Circus,” reveals John. “And we could only book time for ourselves after four in the morning. We did it for months, it was fucking wick. We were zombies and the only people we’d ever see were stoner security guards.”
After that they arranged for another space back in their home town – a much more amenable and practical set-up – which worked out brilliantly until…
“Some fucker burnt it down,” he says. “We were lucky in a way that the night before we’d lifted all our amps and gear out, which we normally never did. So, we didn’t lose anything financially – unlike the guy who owned it. But it felt like we were back to square one. It was a pretty shattering experience.”
One positive development during this time was the progress that John felt his song-writing was making, so much so that the band were confident they had prepared enough material to hit the studio for the first time.
When:
“I got my teeth kicked in on a night out in Belfast.” And yes, he does grin when he says it. “I had to go through 16 operations to get it sorted out. Like, after a while I could sing and talk okay, but I couldn’t really be myself, especially live. I was frightened of ending up each night looking like Shane McGowan.”
Thankfully, since then the band have been enjoying the first few instalments of their inevitable karmic kick-back. Not content to plough the usual Dublin/Belfast furrow, The Beat Poets have been regular visitors to London, and during one trip picked up a couple of significant fans.
“James Dean Bradfield and Greg Haver (Manics’ producer) were out for a drink, saw us and came up afterwards. Greg kept in touch and invited us over for a session. It was great. He set up a mic, called me over, and told me to stick my ear up against it. You could hear people talking in the next room. It was that powerful he said that Metallica use them to record their guitars. We recorded the vocals through it. It was brilliant – one take, everyone in the same room, no overdubbing. Just how we’d always wanted it.”
Since then they have played gigs in Canada (“They treated us like U2. Whereas here we get treated like The Beat Poets, which means like crap.”), making such an impression that they earned an invite to the North by North East Festival, and attracted the notice of fashion label Gio Gio, who have licensed their material for future ad campaigns. The band are also the ongoing subject of a documentary that is currently being filmed, detailing the progress of their career thus far.
“It’s warts and all,” John guarantees. “Although I hope we don’t end up looking like The Brianjonestown Massacre.”
Most exciting of all, however, is the news that while they’re in Toronto the band will be laying down tracks with Ian Bodzasi (Nelly Furtado, Sum 41) at the city’s famous Metal Works studio.
“It’s where Appetite For Destruction was recorded,” says John.
And The Beat Poets’ singer certainly has a hungry look about him.