Jape

Jape was pretty bangin’ as Sunday’s headliner. I can say bangin’ just this once, because Richie Egan spent the best part of his set pointing in the air or raising his fist in a way that would lead one to believe he wanted to be called bangin’. It was my first time hearing Jape, strangely enough, and I was seconds away from the last bus home before deciding to actually wait and see. I’ll explain to you what I was expecting, and what I got. Jape has always been described to me as an “electronic” artist, and the closest I came to encountering him/them was at Whelans when I was in the bar and there was pounding bass coming from the venue. So I was expecting some techno, basically. I didn’t get it. Jape is as much rock as it is electro. Not that that’s a problem. The best thing about Jape anyway, all things and genres considered, is the lyrics. He has a rare frankness and an ability to make you go “haha” or “fuck” or “…” with every second line he sings. I’m not sure I’d pay 20 euro to see him alone because of the sort of vestiges of 90s-ness about it all, but I think he was worth the extra 2.20 the Nightlink cost me at least.

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