Oil companies and record companies have something in common in the advancing 21st century: the threat of extinction becomes more genuine and more real by the year. As Jenny Huston’s new book, In Bloom – Irish Bands Now variously testifies, the days of dreaming about getting signed and making it big via the traditional route are dimming. Bands can now do it for themselves. As Mik Pyro of The Republic of Loose puts it: ‘The old model of signing to a major label and all that is just bullshit: it’s bankrupt and it doesn’t work to the band’s advantage.’

There are other common themes in the book, like the different experiences of gigging, the traits that define success in bands, the getting together and breaking up, and the genuine human joy that success can bring, even when it’s short-lived. As well as this there are very thoughtful opinions on what music is all about. Jape talks plainly and movingly about the emotional highs and lows: ‘Sometimes after a gig I can get a bit depressed… especially the ones that go really well. Afterwards everyone’s like, “That was fuckin’ amazing,” and you’re just like, “Why do I feel so empty?”… You’re dancing over the abyss and then you fall into it!’

Categorically, In Bloom – Irish Bands Now is a series of interviews with Irish acts. As a document, it claims to present an overview of the current music scene in Ireland, from the bigger-selling acts to the up-and-comings. There is a lot missing—hugely promising acts like Katie Kim, Twin Kranes, and The Ghandis go unmentioned, as well as more established artists like Fionn Regan and Gemma Hayes; even huge bands like Snow Patrol—but it’s hard and probably unfair to criticise a book for what it doesn’t include.

What In Bloom does include are detailed biographical interviews with the likes of Mundy, Bell X1, Fight Like Apes, The Blizzards, Mick Flannery, Lisa Hannigan, Villagers, Duke Special and many more. More or less the people you expect to see on the front cover of Hot Press most Christmases. There’s also a handy reference section at the end for bands Huston sees a big future for (curiously, Director feature in this latter section, despite releasing and selling more than some of the featured bands). Either way, there’s plenty here to feast upon.

The book is touted as a celebration of these bands and, given the absence of “difficult” questions or deep critical analysis, this is certainly the case. A preface by Glen Hansard is “brutally honest” in that it includes some curse words, and a little over-righteous too. Hansard refers to the small labels that distributed the Frames’ music around the world as “guys in their bedroom who distributed a few records they liked.” This image of labels (no doubt small and independent, of course) like Overcoat Recordings in Chicago is hard to believe and makes for an unhelpful romantic cliché. But generally his affidavit is a strong instruction guide for any band with aspirations, and this is the more important thing.

The interviews have a tendency towards the formulaic, typically beginning with Huston’s overwhelmingly positive descriptions of the particular group’s character: whether ‘intelligent,’ ‘gifted,’ ‘creative,’ ‘polite,’ ‘determined,’ ‘lovely,’ ‘genuine,’ or ‘gentle,’ these ultimately lead you to feel you are reading a character reference for a job or tenancy. Then, after a list of the Meteor/Choice nominations and festival appearances, and the interview itself, they more often than not close with predictable and optimistic rhetorical flourishes.

But in between, in the actual interview, Huston’s strength arises. She allows the various characters’ voices to dominate. Heroically for a music writer, there is no “I” in this book, and the result is a collection of engrossing moments, whether you like the music or not. Republic of Loose are hilarious and very insightful, admitting that the amount of girls turning up at gigs influenced their “sound,” though at the same time making clear statements about the industry and the importance of finding your voice; Duke Special is sincere and inspiring; Jape is moving in quirky and unpredictable ways. There are interesting nuggets too; for example the fact that Bell X1 nearly called themselves Interpol (what would Interpol have subsequently called themselves?). There’s also the faintly ridiculous; Niall Breslin of The Blizzards, while laudable for his unashamed ambition for hit singles, asserts that in Ireland music-buyers (downloaders too, I suppose) ‘actually rebel against good reviews.’

Another extremely useful insight from this chorus of voices is the endorsement of a “self-releasing strategy,” something that will reinforce hope for “the unsigned” but that also points to the ill state of the industry referenced earlier. If you’re part of a musical act and aspire to emulate these people, then this is essential reading, an engaging instructional manual for the willing, a testament of the pain of failure, the ecstasy of success, and the sweat and muscle pain in between, told in the most convincing voice, that of the artist.

All in all, if In Bloom – Irish Bands Now is not as objective, in-depth and thought-provoking as some other current works on music, it is still an interesting and engaging book. It doesn’t illustrate a full picture of the Irish music scene today, but it is full of the lives and voices of its acts, and is a voyeuristic treasure trove for fans. Therefore, if you like these bands, or know someone who does, you’ve got a great Christmas present sorted.

In Bloom – Irish Bands Now by Jenny Huston, Currach Press, €20 192 pp.