Bricknasty proven as best way to beat the heat 

Standing in a slowly-filling Monroe’s of a Friday evening in July, the recurring discourse I hear around me is largely “Christ, it’s hot” and similar equally astute observations.

You could be forgiven for thinking (under the influence of heatstroke) that the crowd of people filtering into one of the West End’s most-loved venues are here for the air conditioning. However, the emergence of Bricknasty and the roar that greets them are quick to dispel such naïveté. 

Experts in nurturing momentum, Bricknasty kick off their contribution to the Galway International Arts Festival with “Let it Rip”, a song the audience takes literally as conversations about the weather are forgotten in an instant. 

Hailing from Dublin originally, the band are well enough established that an away game such as this one doesn’t faze them in the slightest–their chemistry onstage isn’t to be understated, at times making it feel like we in the crowd are intruding upon a private jam session between friends.

This is best summed up in the way they take mishaps in their stride–when a cymbal comes loose, drummer Korey Thomas takes this as an opportunity to show off his talent, casually sliding into a drum solo while Fatboy leans over to readjust it. We are under five minutes in, mind you. 

It becomes clear that, like any band, Bricknasty have a type. While it is the Galway International Arts Festival, I can be certain Monroe’s has never seen such a concentration of tote bags.

The fivesome are enigmatic: be grateful your job isn’t attempting to describe their sound. The high level of individual talent onstage is a big contributor to their refusal to be pinned down, as jazzy elements collide with strained vocals and our aforementioned crackling, unrelenting drums.

Rhythm heavy, the music springs from them, with the band never feeling like they’re following a setlist or instructions of any kind. This feeling of spontaneity is aided by Fatboy’s frequent rambling between songs, dictating to us whatever thought is on his mind in that instant.

Highlights include referring to Galway as “both me mother and me father” adding that he forgives them for everything. The crowd cheer, relieved that they’ve gotten away with it.

Questionably effective but consistently original with his praise, he also describes the town as “a big fat dog that you give biscuits to cause ye love him even though ye know it’s bad for him.” Met with laughter from the crowd, whether he wanted that reaction or not will remain a mystery thanks to his balaclava.  

Though chatty, he doesn’t hog the spotlight–sax, guitar, bass and drums all have their moments to display their talent throughout the hour long set. Like with any good gig, their departure from the stage is met with vocal protest. 

‘One more tune’ is a standard chant, but Bricknasty aren’t a standard band, and so Fatboy returns, not to sing one of his own but to demand silence for a verse of “The Wild Rover”, something that acts as a perfectly bizarre end to a constantly unpredictable show.