You may not have noticed, but Irish music is having a little bit of a golden era – you heard it here first. Be it through luck, talent, or the universe rewarding us for having to put up with Ed Sheeran’s ‘Galway Girl’, the island’s output has rarely been stronger. Whether it’s the bold republican antics of Kemi Badenoch’s beloved Kneecap or Fontaines’ timeless ‘I Love You’, a unique sense of identity powers Ireland’s music scene like no other.
What happens, then, when the root of that identity is heartbreakingly distant? When the pursuit of a dream doesn’t care for comfort? Sat in a London studio – 500 miles from Galway and home – this dilemma was fresh in the mind of Julie Dawson and her band. Having done a Declan Rice, switching Ireland for England in pursuit of development, NewDad often find themselves thinking of their old roots. Sure, their UK journey has brought the band immense success – Dawson has experienced fans from as far away as Shanghai singing her lyrics back at her – but NewDad’s second LP is a distinctly homesick one.
All the angst and agony of separation are evident right from Altar’s get-go. Opening track “Other Side” gives you just over a minute of dreamy subtlety before Sean O’Dowd’s guitar roars in to give a lesson in tone-setting. Though perhaps a touch too low in the mix, the embrace of O’Dowd’s tones with some really excellent Fiachra Parslow drums create the perfect storm for Dawson’s descent into incensed insolation.
“Heavyweight” and Dawson’s aggravated retches kick off another burst of rumbling frustration, and further explore the Singer’s identity. It’s a relief that the classic shoegaze sound of “Pretty” comes jangling in before Altar reaches its boiling point on single “Roobosh”. NewDad don’t tend to shy away from much, but if Dawson was ever wearing a mask, “Roobosh” sees it slip in an explosion of exasperated rage. With all the aggression of a dreampop Amyl and The Sniffers, the 25-year-old ruthlessly channels her vision for the song – “Fuck you, fuck this”, putting industry standards of female artists to the six-string sword.
The Galway three-piece’s debut album, MADRA, has been criticised – however unfairly – for wearing influences too openly on its sleeve. Indeed, NewDad make no apologies for their love of those who came before them – it’s no sickness to love The Cure, after all. Altar, though, sees the band really emerge into a brilliantly unique sound. On standout track “Puzzle”, Magdelena Bay-esque vocals combine with a masterfully produced bass-heavy soundscape. It’s excellent in its ingenuity, to say the least. Insecurity and discomfort may lie at the heart of this LP, but NewDad take to the studio and stage with the rip-roaring confidence and flexibility of a band with 10 albums, let alone one with 2.
Balancing themes on an album can put any band on a knife’s edge. In a music landscape that increasingly doesn’t know what it wants, artists are often pressured to go ‘all in’, with little room for experimentation.
Despite battling her ‘people-pleasing’ tendency, Dawson balances the gentle with the full-on superbly with Altar. “Mr Cold Embrace” in particular brings a welcome, mellow twist to the LP without sacrificing the band’s sound at the altar (ha-ha). Some albums start slow, before sweeping you from your feet with blasting riffs and “Helter Skelter” drums, but with Altar, it feels like the opposite.
Authentically representing the peaks and troughs of mental struggle, Altar ends on a cautiously optimistic note. “Could you make the sky look clear? / Make me feel like home is here?” is a devastatingly vulnerable lyric, delivered on closing track “Something’s Broken”. Dawson and her band have taken us on an Odessey of doubt, longing and emotionally explosive episodes, so for it all to end with a grin is – simply put – powerful.
Words Dylan Seymour