sometime members include
Patrick McCarthy on banjo, guitar, percussion, vox etc
Andrew Park bass
Sandy Mill vocals
Fiona Brice violin
Alex Vald mandolin
Sian Owen vocals
Mary Epworth vocals
Bert Thomas percussion
Ian Burns drums, percussion
Charlie Beddoes, bass
Influences
hard liquor, righteous anger,blues, gospel, country, folk, soul, Elvis Presley, Hank Williams,Bob Dylan, Patti Smith, Nina Simone, Townes Van Zandt, Tom Waits, Gavin Friday, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Leonard Cohen, Cathal Coughlan, Will Oldham, Sandy Denny, Shane Macgowen, Marty Robbins, Van Morrison, John Lee Hooker, Son House, Leadbelly, Kristin Hersh, Tindersticks, Smog, M.Ward,Sandy Dillon, Cat Power, Otis Redding, P.J.Harvey, Iggy Pop, Dean Martin, Nick Drake, Tim Buckley, Bill Hicks, David Lynch, Federico Fellini, Sydney Lumet, Sergio Leone, Stanley Kubrick, Nikos Kazantzakis, William Faulkner, Franz Kafka, Samuel Beckett, Oscar Wilde, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, J.D.Salinger, Father Pat Brown, catholic guilt, the bible,Odetta, Jaques Brel, John Lennon, Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones, White Stripes, Bo Diddley, Kris Kristofferson, John Lydon, Dolly Parton, Patsy Cline, Karen Dalton, T.Rex, Suicide, the Birthday Party, the Pop Group,The Mary Epworth Band, Simon Breed, Paul the Girl, your mum, Richard Pryor, itchy balls......
Sounds Like
"Sheehy uses his beautiful, bruised blues croon to fine effect on a clutch of brooding and atmospheric songs, which sometimes suggest Billy Fury singing Shane MacGowan's lyrics over Nick Cave's gentler moments. " Time Out
Click here to download and buy Michael J Sheehy – Ghost
On The Motorway
I will never forget those pictures that hung from the walls of the various places I lived as a child. A Sacred Heart of Jesus; you know the ones with a red light bulb on a little ledge just beneath the picture of Our Lord baring His burning heart for all to see and the other was a huge framed photo of Elvis circa 1974 resplendent in a white rhinestone encrusted jumpsuit slashed to the midriff, guitar slung about his hips, jet-black hair, bronze skin, a little overweight but not yet the bloated grotesque he would soon become. In our home Jesus was God; but Elvis wasn’t far behind.
My father is an Elvis fanatic who as a seven-year-old Irish boy in 1957 hustled his way into a cinema to see Jailhouse Rock and was hooked. His love of all things Elvis rubbed off on his children, my brother Larry and I would grease up our hair, tape a hairbrush to a broomstick then rock out like little muthas, much to our parent’s amusement. I was more than a little jealous of my brother as he had straight thick hair while mine was kinky almost Afro-like hair. It doesn’t matter anymore; these days we are both bald. A defining moment during my childhood occurred one Sunday evening at my grandmother’s house. It was approaching six in the evening and it was time to leave for church, the BBC were showing the Elvis movie Loving You from 1957 and Jesus just couldn’t compete, I didn’t want to go to the god damned church! ‘Who do you prefer?’ my grandmother asked ‘Elvis or Holy God?’ ‘Elvis’ I said, anticipating my grandma’s disgust. To church I went despite my protestations.
At five years old I was beginning to show a little artistic flair so my teacher got me to depict the Sorrowful Mysteries of The Rosary to be displayed in the church during Easter week. I took to the task with relish; I particularly enjoyed drawing The Scourging At The Pillar and The Crucifixion; the blood, the whip, the nails, the crown of thorns and the foreboding black sky over Golgotha; the suffering of Jesus really inspired me. I was working from my imagination and what I’d seen in the epic TV series Jesus Of Nazareth starring Robert Powell. I believe this is when I started developing a messiah complex. Soon followed my first Holy Confession, then first Holy Communion, then I became an alter boy. Where would it all end? Luckily I didn’t get molested.
Shortly after I turned sixteen a very creepy priest encouraged me to go to Lourdes (place of miraculous healings at the foot of the French Pyrenees where The Blessed Virgin appeared to a peasant girl named Bernadette) to chaperone disabled children. Unfathomably I would make eight pilgrimages there over the next five years and I began singing in the church choir encouraged and inspired by the parish priest Father Pat Brown who had one of the greatest tenor voices I have ever heard. I met Mother Teresa and sang for her when she visited our church; she gave me a Missionaries of Charity medal (she was handing them out like lollipops) that I wore around my neck for a year or so. The first time I gave a girl oral pleasure, the medal kept getting in the way. Maybe it was God’s way of letting me know I shouldn’t have been eating pussy outside of Holy wedlock. Somewhere along the line I lost the medal and sold my soul to sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll.
I was around twenty-one years old when my faith deserted me; but the guilt remained. To hide the black stain and alleviate the self-loathing, I took to drinking heavily, taking any drug I could get my hands on and trying to fuck anything that moved. I quickly realized I had failed miserably in my quest to be Christ-like so I thought I’d have a crack at being Elvis for a while; naturally this didn’t work out too well either so I took to rock 'n' roll with a religious fervor and in 1995 I formed the band Dream City Film Club. We signed to Beggars Banquet in 1996 and made some records. Sometime during 1999 the group imploded in a hail of fists and forked tongues. My hair began falling out so I continued making records as a bald solo artiste mainly because I had no idea how to do anything else. My last album was five years ago so I thought it was about time to make another one. Nothing much happened in those five years except I got a little fatter and grew a big old beard.
Michael J. Sheehy January 2007
I found "Ghost on the motorway" (well, it found me, actually) in one of my fav music stores and bought it for 1€. Best & smallest amount of money I ever spent on good work...
Come along on Thursday night for an evening of fast-paced Detroit rock'n'roll action with THE DIRTBOMBS, plus Kelley Stoltz and The Kits and DJ PJ (Dirty Water Club)! Click on flyer for tickets...
Just wanted to say thanks again for eveything at the OBS festival! You guys totally rocked and I look forward to Hamburg in August! Take it easy and keep it rockin....
ur fucking sick - been into since ill gotten gains, then ur dissapeared 4 a bit....but now i've found u agen lol hope u like our band - wud honoured if u left us a comment. keep up good work
Two unmissable hot slices of NTSOBC magic pie this week, click on flyers for tickets
Forthcoming NTSOBC action
Wed 28th David Honeyboy Edwards @ NTSOBC @ The 100 Club. W1 Thrs 29th The Felice Brothers @ Nashville Babylon @ The 100 Club, W1****SOLD OUT**** Fri 30th Scott H Biram @ NTSOBC @ The Luminaire, NW6 Sat 31st City Blues Festival at De Montfort Hall Leicester. NTSOBC/Robert Johnson stage with David Honeyboy Edwards, Wild Billy Childish & The Chatham Singers, Scott H Biram, Son of Dave, Hijack Oscar, Pete Molinari, Dave Peabody, Chicken Legs Weaver.
June
Tues 3rd Pete Molinari with full studio band @ The 100 Club, W1. Thurs 5th The Dirtbombs @ NTSOBC @ ULU, WC1. Tues 17th The Handsome Family @ The 100 Club, W1
hello Michael i live in beverungen in germany and i was at the rock festifal orange blossem and i heard you and your band. it was really really great. i think your songs were the best of the hole weekend. respect!! i hope to hear from you. Tina
'TRIPPING IN THE COUNTRY' 1st Birthday Party (Free Champagne for early birds) @ Bardens Boudoir, Cosmic Ladies Night: Featuring: Mary Epworth & The Jubilee Band Gemma Ray Brigid Power-Ryce +Guest DJ: 'Spooky Lady's Sideshow'
I will never forget those pictures that hung from the walls of the various places I lived as a child. A Sacred Heart of Jesus; you know the ones with a red light bulb on a little ledge just beneath the picture of Our Lord baring His burning heart for all to see and the other was a huge framed photo of Elvis circa 1974 resplendent in a white rhinestone encrusted jumpsuit slashed to the midriff, guitar slung about his hips, jet-black hair, bronze skin, a little overweight but not yet the bloated grotesque he would soon become. In our home Jesus was God; but Elvis wasn’t far behind.
My father is an Elvis fanatic who as a seven-year-old Irish boy in 1957 hustled his way into a cinema to see Jailhouse Rock and was hooked. His love of all things Elvis rubbed off on his children, my brother Larry and I would grease up our hair, tape a hairbrush to a broomstick then rock out like little muthas, much to our parent’s amusement. I was more than a little jealous of my brother as he had straight thick hair while mine was kinky almost Afro-like hair. It doesn’t matter anymore; these days we are both bald. A defining moment during my childhood occurred one Sunday evening at my grandmother’s house. It was approaching six in the evening and it was time to leave for church, the BBC were showing the Elvis movie Loving You from 1957 and Jesus just couldn’t compete, I didn’t want to go to the god damned church! ‘Who do you prefer?’ my grandmother asked ‘Elvis or Holy God?’ ‘Elvis’ I said, anticipating my grandma’s disgust. To church I went despite my protestations.
At five years old I was beginning to show a little artistic flair so my teacher got me to depict the Sorrowful Mysteries of The Rosary to be displayed in the church during Easter week. I took to the task with relish; I particularly enjoyed drawing The Scourging At The Pillar and The Crucifixion; the blood, the whip, the nails, the crown of thorns and the foreboding black sky over Golgotha; the suffering of Jesus really inspired me. I was working from my imagination and what I’d seen in the epic TV series Jesus Of Nazareth starring Robert Powell. I believe this is when I started developing a messiah complex. Soon followed my first Holy Confession, then first Holy Communion, then I became an alter boy. Where would it all end? Luckily I didn’t get molested.
Shortly after I turned sixteen a very creepy priest encouraged me to go to Lourdes (place of miraculous healings at the foot of the French Pyrenees where The Blessed Virgin appeared to a peasant girl named Bernadette) to chaperone disabled children. Unfathomably I would make eight pilgrimages there over the next five years and I began singing in the church choir encouraged and inspired by the parish priest Father Pat Brown who had one of the greatest tenor voices I have ever heard. I met Mother Teresa and sang for her when she visited our church; she gave me a Missionaries of Charity medal (she was handing them out like lollipops) that I wore around my neck for a year or so. The first time I gave a girl oral pleasure, the medal kept getting in the way. Maybe it was God’s way of letting me know I shouldn’t have been eating pussy outside of Holy wedlock. Somewhere along the line I lost the medal and sold my soul to sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll.
I was around twenty-one years old when my faith deserted me; but the guilt remained. To hide the black stain and alleviate the self-loathing, I took to drinking heavily, taking any drug I could get my hands on and trying to fuck anything that moved. I quickly realized I had failed miserably in my quest to be Christ-like so I thought I’d have a crack at being Elvis for a while; naturally this didn’t work out too well either so I took to rock 'n' roll with a religious fervor and in 1995 I formed the band Dream City Film Club. We signed to Beggars Banquet in 1996 and made some records. Sometime during 1999 the group imploded in a hail of fists and forked tongues. My hair began falling out so I continued making records as a bald solo artiste mainly because I had no idea how to do anything else. My last album was five years ago so I thought it was about time to make another one. Nothing much happened in those five years except I got a little fatter and grew a big old beard.
Michael J. Sheehy January 2007
