First Impressions: Maybe It Was All for This by Pa Sheehy

“We’re so far from never getting older,” sings former Walking on Cars frontman Pa Sheehy in “The Night the School Burnt Down,” one of many poetic insights found on this, his full-length solo debut. The line conjures the feelings of both the young and aged, how we once imagined ourselves never turning the page into adulthood only to find ourselves weighted down by grownup realities in the proverbial wink of a young girl’s eye. In the song, Sheehy uses a fire that decimated his childhood school as a trampoline to leap into the fray not just of his glory days but their aftermath: “And now it feels like nothing ever happened/But the truth is that everything has changed.” 

As Paul Simon sang, every generation sends a hero up the pop charts. Every generation eventually looks back, too. Hometowns become populated by the ghosts known as memories. Favorite haunts sport new facades or, worse, are gone altogether, with monstrous creations in their stead. Worse, family and friends inevitably move on. Some die, of course, but others drift away on the current of dreams and responsibilities. Maybe It Was All for This delves deep into the changing nature of life via the prism of his hometown. Sheehy explains in the press release, “The record wasn’t meant to be a concept album, but every song has an attachment to the town of Dingle. Either growing up there, wanting to leave it, what it’s like now, and the people in it.”

It’s a remarkable outing. Sheehy’s vocals are grainy and gritty, weathered even, a perfect vehicle to convey his wistful lyrics. “Towards the Water” opens the 14-track set with a driving beat and glorious guitars, while he reflects on the direction he’s set for himself—and the doubts that give him pause. “Calling Off the Search” slows the tempo while digging up a hard truth; along with other songs here, it reminds me—stylistically—of Bruce Springsteen’s Tunnel of Love. Sheehy casts his eye beyond matters of the heart, however, as evidenced by the somber “My Old Friend John,” which I spotlighted here.

The first of two renditions of “Under the Orange Sky” follows; a piano-only version closes the album. It delves deep into the self-deceptions we embrace—aka the stories we tell ourselves—via the bittersweet account of an ill-fated romance. He claims she now means nothing to him, but the wistful chorus offers evidence to the contrary: “We wandered paradise/we called it home/on the hill outside the city/we lay under the orange sky.” The reasons why—from his perspective, at least—the relationship faltered follow, but almost matter not. Memories are impressionistic and malleable, after all, and over time—if we’re lucky—the bad moments matter less than the good. Sounds like he’s halfway there.

The reflective “Loser” looks within to explain how he overthinks certain things. “I’m a loser but I’m not lost,” he asserts. “Ghost Down the Lane” is a moody gem that explores the nighttime visages that haunt him. After a brief interlude, “It’s All Been Done” ups the tempo and guitar quotient while reeling off a hard truth: There’s not much new in life. The same story with different actors plays out over and over, again and again.

“By the Side of the River” opens with a strummed acoustic guitar before the band joins in, while Sheehy spins back to a time when he thought he’d never leave his hometown. “The Night the School Burnt Down,” as I noted above, explores how the past lingers in the present. “Song to Silence (Last Ferry to Doonbeg)” does much of the same, but via a remembrance of a once-close pal who faded away. “Glasheen Road” revisits the same era, when money was tight—and friendships, too. “I know that nothing lasts forever, but I hope I’ll be seeing you soon,” he sings. The penultimate track, “Wretched,” builds to a cathartic frenzy, before the piano-only version of “Under the Orange Sky” revisits the album’s overarching theme.

As I said somewhere up above, the album reminds me a bit of Bruce Springsteen’s Tunnel of Love, albeit it with a focus beyond just matters of the heart. Sheehy looks back to look forward, if that makes sense, and does so in such a way that Maybe It Was All for This is sure to take up residence on one’s turntable—be it virtual or the real deal—for quite some time. (It can be purchased from his website.)

The track list: