Cara was delighted to contribute a series of illustrations to SelfMade Dublin's 'Unseen' Zine. The publication featured contributions from a range of D.I.Y musicians in Ireland, with a focus on female acts in the industry. Cara illustrated a collection of stories from her band Mongoose, highlighting the ups and downs that come hand in hand with working in the music industry. Below is the written piece and accompanying illustrations. See the SelfMade Dublin website for more info on their next events!
'You Have to Laugh' by Mongoose. Illustrations by Cara Dunne.
"You have to laugh" is one of the central philosophies that keeps us sane here at Mongoose. It has become one of our most quoted mottoes, whenever something goes horribly wrong. Naturally, most of our 'Goose disasters happen immediately after something great. Here's a little snapshot of some of the highs and lows that brought this philosophy to life, illustrated by our own Cara Dunne.
Rehearsing with the RTÉ Concert Orchestra. What a thrill, to hear your own songs performed by these incredible musicians! The crashes, the twinkles, the swirling sounds - nothing quite like it to make you feel like you've really achieved something! And then...
The key to the Nissan Micra key breaks in the lock in the RTÉ car park. She may not be the most sophisticated of band vehicles, but she rarely lets us down (we're looking at you, Vincent Van Goose - our late band van). But when she does, it keeps you humble. Ailbhe had to call a mobile locksmith out to RTÉ - rock 'n' roll lyf 2k17 baby!
The key to the Nissan Micra key breaks in the lock in the RTÉ car park. She may not be the most sophisticated of band vehicles, but she rarely lets us down (we're looking at you, Vincent Van Goose - our late band van). But when she does, it keeps you humble. Ailbhe had to call a mobile locksmith out to RTÉ - rock 'n' roll lyf 2k17 baby!
The Irish Times tent at Body & Soul. As festival experiences go, this one was stellar. It was Pride, which gave the day some extra magic. We played our songs as part of a Women's Podcast panel discussion featuring some great and inspirational women. Sipping prosecco afterwards like the fancy ladies we are, clutching our goodiebags, mingling with our favourite journalists, fitting right in... What a contrast to
The worst festival of our career to date. On arrival, the artist accreditation tent initially questioned that we were "the band" and not plus ones - of course four women turning up to a festival must be the girlfriends of an "actual" band... Better still, the stage we were due to play on had not yet been built. It so happened to be Ailbhe's 25th birthday, so we celebrated by going for a countryside walk to look at cows. Best part of the day was singing Happy Birthday in a country lane and the herd of cows coming over to join in, in their own silent-glare-y way. We had to argue our way back to the artist's area - the artist's wristbands had unwittingly been given out to the public on the first day of the festival. Most heartbreakingly of all, the birthday girl dropped her precious slice of watermelon (the only food left at the festival being a fruit stall). We left after several hours without playing, as the stage was still only half constructed. A shambles to beat all others!
The worst festival of our career to date. On arrival, the artist accreditation tent initially questioned that we were "the band" and not plus ones - of course four women turning up to a festival must be the girlfriends of an "actual" band... Better still, the stage we were due to play on had not yet been built. It so happened to be Ailbhe's 25th birthday, so we celebrated by going for a countryside walk to look at cows. Best part of the day was singing Happy Birthday in a country lane and the herd of cows coming over to join in, in their own silent-glare-y way. We had to argue our way back to the artist's area - the artist's wristbands had unwittingly been given out to the public on the first day of the festival. Most heartbreakingly of all, the birthday girl dropped her precious slice of watermelon (the only food left at the festival being a fruit stall). We left after several hours without playing, as the stage was still only half constructed. A shambles to beat all others!
Playing in Dublin castle for Culture Night was one of our highlights in 2017. Not only were we singing with an orchestra in stunning surroundings to an attentive and sizable crowd, it was also being broadcast live on RTÉ Radio One. Which meant that the whole event ran like clockwork! As opposed to
A race across Marlay Park to play at Longitude. Typically, we ended up almost late for a festival situated on our very doorsteps. Having waited about twenty minutes for an official person to get instuments off us and then let the car through, we were directed to the car park at the very opposite end of the park. Cue running all the way back through the park and the milling festival crowds as the sun shone sunnily above. When we finally arrived at the stage (in a hotbox of a tent), red-faced, panting and sweating profusely, a comedian/mc was holding court on stage. We set up and waited behind him as he kept the show going with awkward, sexist jokes and cringworthy audience banter. The crowd were having none of it, though this fact seemed to fly over his head. We exchanged "this guy is awful" glances through our sweaty flurry of setting up. After the gig many festival organisers and stage runners apologized for awful mc man, safe to say he was a rogue misogynistic idiot! (We had a nice time after we cooled down, temperature and mood wise).
A race across Marlay Park to play at Longitude. Typically, we ended up almost late for a festival situated on our very doorsteps. Having waited about twenty minutes for an official person to get instuments off us and then let the car through, we were directed to the car park at the very opposite end of the park. Cue running all the way back through the park and the milling festival crowds as the sun shone sunnily above. When we finally arrived at the stage (in a hotbox of a tent), red-faced, panting and sweating profusely, a comedian/mc was holding court on stage. We set up and waited behind him as he kept the show going with awkward, sexist jokes and cringworthy audience banter. The crowd were having none of it, though this fact seemed to fly over his head. We exchanged "this guy is awful" glances through our sweaty flurry of setting up. After the gig many festival organisers and stage runners apologized for awful mc man, safe to say he was a rogue misogynistic idiot! (We had a nice time after we cooled down, temperature and mood wise).
That time the car got stuck in a field, the battery died and nobody came to our gig in another small local Irish festival. Our first clue was finding our way to the suspiciously completely empty 'festival camping' field. We were told the locals were tired out after three arts festivals in a row that month. So we played our very best for the lovely sound engineer! And there must have been somebody there in the back, as since then we've been booked for several more gigs by people citing that same festival. Nothing like the car battery dying as you try to unstick it from the mud, plunging your solitary tent at the festival into darkness. Oh, how we laughed (and still do).
Compared to Stendhal festival (Derry) - it puts festivals in the Republic to shame. Every single member of staff we encountered was unfailingly helpful and friendly, the artists were provided with hot meals, hot drinks, a choice of beers or ciders, goodie bags including ear plugs and, best of all, proper payment. Coupled with a relaxed atmosphere, excellent family and disability provisions, lovely organised mindfulness for the environment and recycling, not to mention an impressive line up including The Four of Us, David O'Doherty and Ciaran Lavery, we had the best time.
Compared to Stendhal festival (Derry) - it puts festivals in the Republic to shame. Every single member of staff we encountered was unfailingly helpful and friendly, the artists were provided with hot meals, hot drinks, a choice of beers or ciders, goodie bags including ear plugs and, best of all, proper payment. Coupled with a relaxed atmosphere, excellent family and disability provisions, lovely organised mindfulness for the environment and recycling, not to mention an impressive line up including The Four of Us, David O'Doherty and Ciaran Lavery, we had the best time.
We once drove to Tipperary to play a 12pm slot at a busking festival, only to be told by the organisers that they had meant midnight and that we were 12 hours too early. We had another gig in Dublin that night, so we couldn't stay to play. They refused to cover our petrol, or to acknowledge their mistake.
Versus getting a text from Glen Hansard asking us to play support for his gig in Vicar Street. Enough said.
Versus getting a text from Glen Hansard asking us to play support for his gig in Vicar Street. Enough said.
Our 'Four' EP launch, in a packed out Whelan's, joined on stage by a talented brass and string section. We were overjoyed to be releasing a record we're very proud of, and had poured our heart and soul into. It was the very best a hometown show can be, and when we finished we were all excited to celebrate with our friends and fans.
Instead, Vincent Van Goose chose that night to die. Our notoriously unreliable Ford Transit crewcab decided that he would bring us to our launch, but no further. And of course, our nationwide tour was to start the following day... Poor Ailbhe, (and then the band, plus roped in friends) spent the night dealing with the van saga instead of partying rock and roll style (like we usually do because we're rock and roll). Thank Goose for the little green micra!
So there you have it! Some of the pivotal stories in Mongoose Lore that made us the messers we are today. It's easy to become bitter about mistreatment in the industry, and mishaps that happen because you can't afford better transport. Instead, you have to laugh - find the joy in the ridiculous and the sublime! Sure it'll all be a distant memory some day, it might as well be a fond one. Not to mention those pesky good times are so darn good that they'll always spur us on in this mad industry.
Mongoose 2018.
Instead, Vincent Van Goose chose that night to die. Our notoriously unreliable Ford Transit crewcab decided that he would bring us to our launch, but no further. And of course, our nationwide tour was to start the following day... Poor Ailbhe, (and then the band, plus roped in friends) spent the night dealing with the van saga instead of partying rock and roll style (like we usually do because we're rock and roll). Thank Goose for the little green micra!
So there you have it! Some of the pivotal stories in Mongoose Lore that made us the messers we are today. It's easy to become bitter about mistreatment in the industry, and mishaps that happen because you can't afford better transport. Instead, you have to laugh - find the joy in the ridiculous and the sublime! Sure it'll all be a distant memory some day, it might as well be a fond one. Not to mention those pesky good times are so darn good that they'll always spur us on in this mad industry.
Mongoose 2018.