Mercury rising – Lisa Hannigan
Hazel Davis meets Mercury Prize nominee and honey-voiced songbird Lisa Hannigan
“Gobsmacked. Surprised. Never imagined it.” This is folk musician Lisa Hannigan on her recent Mercury Prize nomination for Sea Sew, her self-embroidered debut album. I call her a folk musician but she balks at the term. “I wouldn’t really describe myself as that,” she muses in her deep Irish growl, “I keep hearing I am the token folkie on the Mercury list but I think I am more plinky-plonk rock.”
If calling her a folk musician jars, then mentioning Damien Rice surely must. But on this the 28-year-old is refreshingly candid. For those not in the know, Hannigan’s is the ghostly voice on Rice’s 2002 debut album, O. The two met at university in Dublin where Hannigan was studying art history and worked together until 2007 but split seemingly acrimoniously.
But Hannigan, who was born in County Meath, doesn’t mind being known as that bird wot sang with Damien Rice. “It’s just the truth really,” she says, “I am sure I wouldn’t have so much attention if I hadn’t sung with him. It is what it is. It was a great few years of working together. It was his songs and it was his thing and I sang backing vocals. I wouldn’t have wanted it to be My Thing.”
But all the while she was working with Rice, Hannigan was crafting her introspective, ethereal tunes. “I was very slow,” she says, “It was only when I had the time that I sped up.” She explains, somewhat disingenuously, “I am not very good on the guitar and piano, you see, and I was trying to write the songs on the guitar and piano. So I started writing songs to a drum pattern and sort the music out afterwards. Once I freed myself it was easier.”
The words-and-music process for Hannigan, she says, is a simultaneous one. “I do have pages of words that I like,” she says, “but I don’t sit down and say ‘what metaphor will I use for this?’”
Though she didn’t know she would end up here, Hannigan always knew she “wouldn’t get a proper job.” “I was always singing from an early age, in different genres,” she says, “We all wouldn’t be sitting around playing together or anything but my parents would listen to a lot of music and there were musical people in the family. At school I wanted to be an opera singer and I entered a lot of competitions,” she says, “and then I did a few singer-songwriter nights.” Her early influences were Nina Simone and Joni Mitchell, both of whom are in evidence on songs such as Venn Diagram, which showcases her sparse breathiness. “Everything you listen to seeps in to the music you write,” she laughs, “it’s very easy to just copy a song without realising it…”
Meeting Rice on the first day of college, however, changed everything. “After a few months he said he was looking for a backing singer for a gig and I stepped in.”
She’s been described as being a cross between Bjork and Suzanne Vega. “That sounds awesome,” she laughs, “I’m well happy sitting there…but you never sound how you think you sound anyway…”
Having established herself as a live favourite, Hannigan says she particularly enjoyed her performance at the Latitude Festival in July. “I was blown away,” she breathes, “It lashed with rain – I’ve never seen it so heavy but people stayed right till the end. It was really heartwarming.”
It’s early days for the next album, says Hannigan, who seems to view the songwriting process as a fairly passive one. “I have a couple of songs and I am going to get working on it. But I will take my time until the songs have gathered themselves together,” she says, “The last song I wrote was definitely a folk song, one of my favourites. It’s called Looking Passenger and it’s just me and a mandolin.”
And we may be in for a treat when the album does come out. “I’m learning the violin,” she announces, “My poor housemates… I am put to shame by people who can really, really play things. Singing is my thing….”
Ain’t that the truth…
Hazel Davis
Sea Sew is out now. Visit www.lisahannigan.ie
