‘Seriously?’I say.
‘Just not by those guys,’ says Tadhg.‘They’re not terrible or anything but I don’t want to write songs with them.’He picks up a pen from the table and twists it around in his hands.‘My stuff can be pretty poppy but not their sort of pop.’He mentions a few Grammy-winning acts Ahlberg and Johns have produced, and I see what he means.‘We wouldn’t be a good match.’
‘It doesn’t sound like it,’ I agree.
‘But … I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,’ says Tadhg.‘Since Jim died.About what I want to do next musically.’
‘And?’I say.
‘Well, I do kind of feel that I’m in a rut.’He stops fiddling with the pen and looks at me.‘Or at least that I want to do something different.So I started thinking seriously about writing songs with other people.’
‘Have you … have you ever done that before?’I’m genuinely interested.I haven’t paid enough attention to the details ofhis career to know who he’s worked with.‘Professionally, I mean.’
‘I’ve tried a few times,’ he says.‘But it never worked.I’ve never been able to write songs with anyone else.’He pauses and then says, ‘Apart from you.’
I don’t know what to say to this.I’m flattered – more than flattered – that I’m the only person he’s ever written with.But it all reminds me that this is all about Tadhg’s job.His career.This reunion is primarily about work.Not our old friendship.
‘In fact, that’s what made me think of our song,’ Tadhg continues.‘And after I started playing it again, I really, really wanted to finish it.That’s why I asked Tara to mail you.’
‘So what did you say to Hugo last night?’I ask.
‘I told him I didn’t want to write with Ahlberg and Johns,’ says Tadhg.‘And that I was already in the middle of a songwriting session.With you.’
He’s telling his manager – well, his sort-of manager – about me?This fortnight of workshopping really is serious.‘And does Hugo approve?’
‘Well, he still wants me to work with Ahlberg and Johns,’ says Tadhg.‘He thinks working with them will be good publicity, if nothing else.Show I’m going in a ‘fresh new direction’ – his words, not mine.But I told him I didn’t need their direction and I was sticking with you.And that’s that.’He clasps his hands at the back of his neck and looks up to the ceiling.‘I’ve got to sort out meetings with new managers.I’ve kind of been letting it slide.’
‘Well, you did say Jim only died a few months ago,’ I say.‘You can’t rush into things.’
‘I suppose,’ says Tadhg.
‘And you’ll get out of that rut,’ I say.‘You don’t need any help to do that.’
‘I think I do,’ says Tadhg, with a wry smile.‘Sorry for banging on about this.’
‘You haven’t been,’ I say.‘I know I haven’t won any Grammys, but do you want to go to the studio and write some more songs with me?’
Tadhg laughs.‘There is nothing I’d like more.’
It’s as if yesterday’s work has ignited some fresh creative fire.Yesterday we were bringing each other fragments of songs we’d already written; today we’re coming up with brand-new music.We write a whole new song there and then.
‘I’d love to play that last one with a full band,’ I say.‘No offence to your drumming, of course.But it would be great to …’ I trail off and Tadhg grins.
‘Play with a proper drummer?I agree.And actually,’ he adds thoughtfully, ‘we might be able to do something about that.I can see if my friend Sam’s free to call in for a few hours this week.He only lives in Glasnevin.I’ll give him a ring right now.’
And he actually does it.He takes his phone out of his pocket and makes the call.‘Hey, man, how are you?Good, thanks.Really good.Listen, how are you fixed this week?Do you haveany spare time?No, I’m working on some songs in the studio with my friend Laura … Um, yeah, that’s right.She is.Yeah.’Tadhg looks at me and whispers, ‘Sorry, I’ll be back in a sec,’ and leaves the room, closing the kitchen door firmly behind him.
I can’t help feeling slightly paranoid.What was this mysterious Sam asking about me?
Tadhg comes back a minute or two later.
‘So,’ he says, ‘if it’s okay with you, Sam will call over for a few hours this afternoon.What do you think?’
‘I think we’ll make a lot of noise,’ I say.‘In a very good way.’
‘Excellent,’ says Tadhg.
We spend the rest of the morning working on all the new songs.We still don’t have proper lyrics for them, but I tell myself they can come later.Writing lyrics feels weirdly intimate at the moment, and I don’t know if either of us is ready for that.What would we write lyrics about?In the past, we never really wrote lyrics together.Because Tadhg was so good at it and I was so unwilling to write about what I was actually feeling, he became our primary lyricist by default.Which was probably for the best, given the lyrics I did write, like ‘Midnight Feast’.I suppose we could divide the songs up between us now, but the only lyric subjects that spring to my mind are my complicated new feelings for Tadhg and the memories of my anger and hurt at Dave.And I don’t feel like sharing any of that with Tadhg at the moment.
