Kid keeps it simple

Three years ago McFeeley, now 27, had been in California all of three days when he and his gilfriend with broke up, leaving him homeless and thousands of miles away from home. The Cork-born musician decided to make the best of it, and took off on a six-month trip up and down the coast.
It was those impressionable six months that McFeeley would take back to London and parlay into a debut album that has both sides of the Atlantic buzzing. Still, the experience was nothing like the sunny escapades of fellow Irishmen The Thrills. During his time there, McFeeley saw the worn, seedy underbelly of California dreaming that draws people by the millions.
“All California did really was make me want to get out, basically,” McFeeley said, laughing.
During a stop in Santa Cruz, McFeeley found the moniker he is currently working under. While arguing philosophy with a particularly intelligent homeless man, McFeeley was caught bluffing. The man immediately dubbed him “The Simple Kid” and he has continued to use the name to refer to his stripped-down and almost folksy musical offerings.
His debut album, “Simple Kid 1,” which will be released on June 8 on Vector Records, is a mishmash of acoustic riffs, reverberations, and computer loops that tell the story of disgruntled office workers and apathetic youngsters, whose plight McFeeley saw close-up.
“I came back to London to these sort of mind-crushing warehouse jobs,” McFeeley said. “I’m writing about regular people, real things.”
Recorded in said manager’s London office during a three-week period in which he worked from dusk until dawn, McFeeley feels he made the most of it.
“It is a good way of doing it,” he says of the recording process. “When you are that lonely, you tend to make decisions really fast.”
Lyrically, McFeeley throws out as many hardballs as he does musically. The line “I tried not to laugh when Diana was halved” is just one gem from “1,” and there are many more.
McFeeley is not ashamed of his influences, either. He has already received comparisons to Arlo Guthrie and Bob Dylan for his social commentary lyrics meets crashing avant garde music.
“I think it’s obvious,” he said about his influences. “They’re definitely there.”
He has just set out on a short eight-city tour of the States, his first. McFeeley promises a “very stripped-down set, with only my brother and another friend. . . . I’ll have my laptop, guitars, a banjo, that kind of thing.”
The laptop is not just for the live act. McFeeley made most of “1” by chopping up his first recording takes and layering onto them using the computer.
This unorthodox approach to music-making has worked for his heroes, so many will be listening closely to see if McFeeley will live up to it. Then again, not much about Simple Kid goes by the book.
For instance, McFeeley has taken to donning a foam and mesh trucker hat. Few in America are mourning the short-lived fashion trend that was recently given an obituary in the New York Time’s Style section. As any next big thing should wonder, how does one endear himself to an already-finicky New York audience?
“Maybe I’ll wear a Stetson instead,” he said, laughing.
Simple Kid plays at Sin-