“I’ve no idea how to work out the music industry, so I’m not even going to try and bother.”

The sun is shining and Joe Brush is sprawled on the front lawn of Belfast City Hall. He’s here, primarily, to talk about his new band, Vapor Lounge, and also chat about the demise of his old mob – primary-coloured late ’90s punkers co.dot. Mainly, though, he’s here to keep things positive. Because in this weather, there’s no point looking for rain clouds. It’s blue-sky thinking all the way.
“When you work for a major,” he says, “their whole energy is taken up with trying to find what niche you’ll fit into. If they find one, great. If they don’t, they fuck you over. And that’s what happened to us. You just have to accept that. But I don’t feel any bitterness about what happened. You can beat yourself up about it, but what’s the point? It’ll not do you any good. I went in with my eyes open and at the end of the day, everything taken into account, I had an absolute ball.”
That’s the attitude.
It wouldn’t be a surprise, though, to find Joe somewhat bruised by his initial dealings with the music industry. As we speak, co.dot’s last LP is currently gathering dust in the same warehouse where the Ark of the Covenant was deposited at the conclusion of the first Indiana Jones film. Recorded at great expense with Hugh Jones at Rockfield Studios (“‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ was recorded there. We all had our own jacuzzis in our rooms.”), it was spiked by Mercury Records long before its planned release – a decision that acted as a catalyst in bringing about the three-piece’s end.
Since then, Joe has kept his head down. Productively.
“It’s been about three years since we broke up and I really haven’t done that much since,” he admits. “I just wanted to give myself a bit of space to try to write in a different way. The problem with co.dot is that when I tried to experiment a wee bit, I’d just get these blank expressions – ‘What the fuck’s that? That’s not us’. I was like, if I’m the only one writing the songs, and these are the only songs I’m writing, then this is us. I’d just changed and I couldn’t really go jumping around the stage to the new stuff I was writing.”
And the results? Well, if you’re expecting the kind of knuckle-headed punk that his previous mob were known for, you may be in for a shock, because Vapor Lounge is an altogether more satisfyingly subtle beast. Where co.dot’s material at times kept company with the unlovely likes of Blink 182 and Three Colours Red, the new emphasis on scuffed melodicism and beguiling atmospherics (provided, Joe says, by erstwhile Snow Patrol keyboardist John Rossi) suggests that Folk Implosion and Yo La Tengo may be more welcome dinner guests these days. Add in a knack for corkscrew choruses and it seems that Mr Brush has found himself fronting a highly promising indie band. Which, considering his previous form, is something of a surprise.
“Good,” he says. “Previously I was running around, having a laugh, making a few quid, playing gigs, but basically writing songs that my idols had already written. But I’ve done that, this time I want to try and write something a little bit deeper and that’s maybe a wee bit more personal. These new songs definitely mean more to me than anything I’ve ever written before. And John’s really brilliant. He’s into his weird keyboard sounds and his Moog. I’ve never written with a keyboard player before and it’s made me look at things in a whole new way.”
Has it justified your having another go?
“Totally. I want to do other things, go to other places. Not having a trade, being able to do bits and bobs but not really having been trained to do anything specific, it really is great when you write a song and think: this isn’t bad. I’m glad I had another crack
at it.”