This past weekend was quite significant for Cork. Acclaimed actor Cillian Murphy was among the Oscar contenders for the best actor award on Sunday. Meanwhile, the beloved 1990’s indie pop sensation, Sultans of Ping, held one of their biggest ever concerts in Ireland, marking three decades since their debut album, Casual Sex in the Cineplex, was released.
Frontman Niall O’Flaherty, whose distinctively wavy hairstyle seems untouched by time since 1992, cheerfully reminded Dublin of their presence. Throughout the thrilling performance, he harkened back to the times when bands readily took on challenges alongside pleasing their audience.
The Sultans first shot to fame with their catchy hit, Where Me’s Jumper? The track, with its witty lyrics and punk style, resonated more with New York than with London – it quickly turned into an iconic song, but its success shadowed much of their later career.
The band was somewhat misunderstood by the British music media, who often depicted them as eccentric comedians. This overlooked their unique musical blend – a mix of poetic absurdity and mosh pit chaos, characterised by Cork’s indie music scene. This scene boasts a heritage of unusual creativity dating back to the 1980s with bands such as Five Go Down To Sea? and Microdisney.
In today’s world, the unusual mix of New York Dolls meets Flann O’Brien would rarely pave the way for enduring success. However, the Sultans were able to release three albums before the rise of Britpop overshadowed them. As Britpop has fallen out of popularity, a new audience has discovered the Sultans, mainly due to their music being featured on the soundtracks of popular TV shows like Moone Boy and Young Offenders.
Their performance was kick-started with Back in A Tracksuit, an energetic number underpinned by the guitar duet of Pat O’Connell and Simon Carmody. The latter was a former member of Golden Horde and a controversial Dubliner.
O’Flaherty is the source of energy. He makes a beeline for the barricade, mounts a loudspeaker and alerts the audience that the Sultans, who are primarily stationed overseas, have been keeping a keen eye on the recent referendum. “In an ideal world, I’d cast my vote in favour of ‘No'”, he jests. “I firmly believe that those sporting beards have no business being in music venues.”
Although the Sultans have reignited their bond sporadically over the years, they all maintain full-time employment. O’Flaherty, a history tutor in London, carries a PhD from Cambridge. Meanwhile, Drummer Morty McCarthy is engaged in music merchandising and O’Connell has carved a niche for himself in London’s finance sector.
Yet, as they traverse through 2 Pints of Rasa – a love ditty set amidst Cork’s rave culture – and the menacing Turnip Fish, their everyday adult responsibilities seem to dissolve. It’s as if time itself has been reversed. Their real anthem, without doubt, is the Turnip Fish, which instigates the “Turnip dance”, a unique dance style that sees scores of middle-aged men lying on their backs, hilariously flailing their legs in the air.
The peculiarly named “Where’s Me Jumper?” is unveiled towards the climax. And it’s still utterly enchanting – a stupendously humorous, heartfelt elegy for a “brand-new sweater” that’s gone astray. People of all ages dance shoulder-to-shoulder and Vicar Street is transformed into a mammoth, jubilant mosh-pit. It serves as an important reminder that rock music is capable of, and indeed ought to, aspire for more than simply emulating the solemn seriousness of Bono – and that the Sultans truly epitomise the liberating spirit of Irish punk more distinctively than any other band.