Music
9 things you should know about Talos
We talk to the Cork electronica whiz about his years in an indie band and his new guise ahead of the release of his debut album
For the last few years, the name Talos has been on the tip of many an Irish tastemaker's tongue as one to watch on the ever-thrilling electronica scene. Now, finally, Eoin French is about to unleash his debut album. Ahead of the release of 'Wild Alee' on April 21st, we chatted to Ireland's answer to James Blake about the intersection between his day-job and his music, how his eclectic influences and experience has shaped Talos's sound, and that mythological name....
HIS CLASSICAL BACKGROUND HAD AN IMPACT ON HIS MUSIC
There was always music on wherever we were, but from about 5 or 6 I played the piano. Then I stopped around 12 and I took up the guitar around 14 or 15. I picked up the piano again after that, but there was a very short period where I didn't play an instrument at all; otherwise, I'd always played. I trained for five years or so, but I didn't touch the piano from the age of about 12 to 20 or 21. I started getting lessons again, but it was completely contemporary songs that I wanted to play, and learning how to translate chords from the guitar to the piano.
.... BUT SO DID DR. DRE
Dre's '2001' was a big influence when I was a teenager. And to be honest, Kate Bush was one of the main ones, and Mark Hollis from Talk Talk – they'd be my top inspirations. Then there was the usual stuff; Bowie was played a lot, Bob Dylan was played a lot. As I got older, it was more '80s stuff – but when I was younger, Dre's '2001' was one that sticks out a lot.
BEFORE TALOS, HIS FORMER BAND HUSH WAR CRY WERE TIPPED FOR GREATNESS
It was disappointing how it worked out, but it was my decision, really. It was very hard to walk away from it, but I just wanted to do something else at the end of the day, really. Although if you listen to the very last song on the Hush War Cry EP, it's a song called 'Asleep', which was probably the closest that that stuff came to what Talos is. So it was definitely in there somewhere, but I never got to the point that I wanted to get to – so that's what Talos was; exploring the farther reaches of it, and the complete loss of analogue.
TALOS STARTED TAKING SHAPE WHEN HIS GIRLFRIEND FELL ILL AND SCUPPERED THEIR EMIGRATION TO THE STATES
I should probably drop that story (laughs). It was kind of a simple thing, though – I could either have gone on my own, or stayed. So I decided to stay, but it was like 'Well, what do I do now?' That's what Talos was born from, really – not having anything to do, really (laughs). We'd planned to move and the visas were got and everything. It was an interesting time, but you kind of look back on it now and it's strange how these things work themselves out.
HIS STAGE NAME WAS INSPIRED BY HIS GRANDFATHER
I lived next to my grandparents all my life, and my grandfather was obsessed with Greek mythology; he literally had a library of books on the stuff. He'd passed away a few years prior to me starting as Talos and I was around his house, looking at and reading some of the stories, and the Talos character had a lot of common themes and a similar tone to what I was talking about; that idea of isolation. And in very simple terms, too, aesthetically it looks well written down. That was kind of an important thing for me as well – that it had something visually, as well.
HE SPENT THREE YEARS MAKING THE ALBUM, AND HE DOESN'T REGRET IT
There were points where I got impatient and probably felt like 'Oh, I should put this out now' - but I think in a way, I probably made the right decision because I don't think that this album would be made in that period of time. Even if I had said 'Fuck it, let's just go into the studio and make the thing', I don't think that I was ready to do that, and I don't think the songs were there, either. I think an album should take that length of time, because in a way, it is a massive piece of work and it all has to read together; an album is a very complex thing. Fair play to someone who does one in six months and has it sounding great – but I don't think that's the type of artist that I am. I prefer the painful, slow process of basically torturing myself (laughs).
THE LYRICS WERE INSPIRED BY SOME UNUSUAL SOURCES
I think it does document the three years quite interestingly. There's a number of songs in there that are quite intense – like 'End Game' is almost about destruction, or something degrading, or self-implosion. Then something like 'Odyssey' or 'In Time' is about breaking through. Weirdly enough, I started watching a lot of mountain climbing documentaries, like 'Touching the Void' and 'Meru' and stuff like that. That idea of conquering something, or being within this isolated environment and something seeming insurmountable and being scaled... that was a massive inspiration for those kind of songs. It's kind of bizarre, but it worked.
HIS MUSICAL TOUCHPOINTS WERE EQUALLY ECLECTIC
The most modern reference that [he and co-producer Ross Dowling] had was that new Anonhi album, 'Hopelessness'. For me, that's one of the most important albums of the last 15, 20 years. Everything that it conjures up... I think it's a very strong piece of work, and the most original thing that I've heard in a long time. That was probably one of our main modern references. With regards to older stuff, I was talking to someone the other day about Tim Buckley's 'Song for the Siren'. For me, that's probably one of the best songs ever written, so that would consistently be a reference for me.
HIS 'OTHER' JOB AS AN ARCHITECT FEEDS INTO HIS MUSIC
It does, 100%. I do work quite methodically, but it's methodical work towards an impulsive end, if that makes sense. You literally put in as many hours as you can to get to a point where you feel like it wasn't you that made it. I think that's the biggest thrill, actually; when you listen back to something and think 'I didn't make that.' With regards to architecture, I think the biggest thing is very simply, space. I think the songs bring a visual aspect with them, and there's a feeling of spaciousness. I would always like to think that if someone was listening to my music, that they would describe it as visual. I would like to think that my music is part of my full-time job. I would like to think that maybe it becomes more all-encompassing, but I do want music to be the main thing that I do. But would I stop designing and being interested in architecture and art? I don't think I would. I think that probably actually helps the music, for me, because it offers different viewpoints on how to make things, really. It just helps.
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