Five for Éire
First time writing in a while! I can’t recall the exact day, but I know where I was on the road when Spotify queued up “Sunday” by The Cranberries on shuffle. And I recall thinking, shit, man — The Cranberries kinda rock. Why don’t I think about them more often? I mean, we talk about “Linger”, “Zombie”, and “Dreams” all the time, but this isn’t nearly as popular, but it’s just as divine!
Then, on a whim, I threw on Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We? last Wednesday when I needed to get some work done. And again, “Sunday” jumped out at me. On Friday, the latest episode of Yellowjackets featured “Linger,” and so feeling the universe pushing The Cranberries, I went out and bought a copy of EEIDI, SWCW? from my local record shop.
Listening again today, I thought it’d be nice to do a quick 5-song hit with a theme. I will do my damndest to stay off Wikipedia when writing this sucker. I was bouncing the idea of the piece around, and the thought occurred to me that with similar accents and Celtic roots, why does Ireland foster such great artistry as compared to their Celtic cousins in Scotland? No disrespect to your Countries Big and Twins Cocteau, of course. The answer to that rhetorical question is pretty quickly met with systemic oppression, genocide, generational trauma, sectarian violence, etc. Something about that pain led to gorgeous displays of creativity, but I won’t be touching on the politics.
(But, if you’re interested, taking this opportunity to plug Say Nothing, one of the best books I’ve ever read. And if I were going to talk about it, “Zombie” and “Sunday Bloody Sunday” are the lowest-hanging fruit, so I’ve avoided them on this list despite loving them.)
We’re going to keep it quick, light, and talk about what jumps out and what I enjoy about these tracks.
“Sunday” - The Cranberries
The inspiration for this article begins with over a minute of calm and soothing. Gentle tambourine, a jangly guitar typical of the time, and swelling strings before Dolores O'Riordan lends us her lovely voice. This gives an ethereal start to the song, and some prominent bass comes in just before the 1:00 mark. It’s evocative of waves slowly rolling in, early in the day with no one on the beach but you and a contemplative vibe. Easy, like Sunday morning.
The song really kicks off at 1:16. The way Dolores holds the vowels in arounD and grouuuund, then the mini-yodel in stay-ee-aa-und makes it clear that while this is a rock band planted in the 90s, they’re drawing heavily on some deep Irish traditions.
I love the interplay between the electric bass and the strings from 1:50 through 2:10. You can imagine that an acoustic version of the song would really make the Irish folk roots all the more prominent.
Less delicate than “Linger”, brighter than “Zombie”, and less sprawling than “Dreams” — “Sunday” might be the perfect vehicle to carry Dolores O'Riordan’s unmistakably Irish vocals into the 90s rock canon.
“Troy” - Sinead O’Connor
Man, it’s gonna be REAL hard not to touch the political third rail here. I’m just going to say that Sinead was unfairly maligned and criminally underappreciated. Go look up WHY she tore up the picture of the pope on SNL.
This is one of my all-time favorite songs, despite having only discovered it 3ish years ago. We’re further back in time, replacing jangly guitar with synths (how quintessentially 90s vs. 80s), but the orchestral backing is still there, and my GOD, the pipes are, too. That first SWELL at 1:35 foreshadows what’s to come, as does the end of burrrrnnnn-OW at 1:50. This begins delicately — Dublin in a rainstorm. But it absolutely will not stay there.
At 1:58, the “I never meant to hurt you, I SWEAR” carries a punch that gives us the feeling that Sinead is doing all she can to contain a complete and total explosion.
The way “do” lingers in the line “Does she need you like I do?” — then silence allows “Do you love her?” to exist on its own in space makes it feel like she’s asking the question honestly, but deathly afraid of an answer in the affirmative. That pause is key. It feels like it lasts just a measure longer than it should and communicates perfectly the apprehension, the desperation from the singer’s POV.
At 2:40, we get string hits and one of the first REAL explosions in the song, lamenting the thought of “her” holding “you” before reeling back in and focusing on the relationship between singer and subject, asking “Do you want me? / Should I leave?” But this will be short-lived, dear listener.
As she sings, “Ohhhhh I love you”, it’s the first time she so directly expresses how she feels, and the whispered second time, saying “God, I love you” — if you’re really allowing yourself to escape into the world of the song, your heart breaks for Sinead. She’d kill a DRAGON for you, man! KNOWING she’ll die! The string hit after she releases “die” — then near-silence as she rises and returns.
And here, the song pivots.
This phoenix, returning from the flames, has found her footing.
No longer pleading, the resurrected Sinead is defiant. “NO, I didn’t make it up,” she seems to say. “NO, this wasn’t a one-sided love affair.” If it was going to end this way, YOU should’ve left the light on, and we never would’ve gotten so close. Ending on the repeated refrain, “You’re still a liar” with no restraint whatsoever whether holding her syllables in falsetto or singing with unmistakable anger — Sinead’s power is on full display.
I love the dynamics, I love how the composition complements Sinead’s voice, and I love how the feelings evolve from the tender beginning in that Dublin rainstorm to the scream “You’re still a liar!” and string hits close out the track. The broken heart that young Sinead sings about in this track breaks my heart for how cruelly the world treated her, but I’m thankful she left behind such powerful work.
“People Pleaser” - Soda Blonde
This is the newest track on the list, released just a few weeks ago from one of my favorite bands. Faye O’Rourke carries on the traditions set by Irish standard-bearers like Dolores and Sinead, but with a modern alt-pop sensibility in Soda Blonde.
I haven’t had a ton of time to sit with this track yet, but I was walking my dog for my first listen and immediately saved it as one of my favorite tracks SB has released to date.
Listen to how smooth and reassuring Faye’s voice is at 2:25. Like she’s leaning in closer to speak to you in confidence. Few other singers releasing work today affect me as much as Faye — I’ve been a fan for over 10 years and AT SOME POINT will get around to writing about the unbelievable performance they put on in January 2024 when I saw them live in Amsterdam. Sadly, regrettably, I’ll be in the States when they tour the UK and Europe this spring but cannot wait to see them again soon and will continue spreading the gospel every chance I get!
I love Faye’s voice, and one thing that’s been a signature since their days in Little Green Cars that we haven’t touched on with the other songs so far — I love the harmony between all four members of the band.
“I Love You” - Fontaines D.C.
The buzziest rock band in music today, Fontaines D.C. (Dublin City) landed on many a Best Of 2024 list with their latest album Romance. But we’re going back one album in their catalog to where I met them in 2022 on Skinty Fia.
Conor Deegan’s bass brings us into the track before post-punk electric and acoustic guitars layer in but Grian Chatten’s Gaelic crooning is on display, as a feature, as a treasure on this track. Listening carefully reveals that the object of Grian’s love isn’t a partner, but his homeland. I said I wouldn’t play Rebel songs or political songs but this one is so carefully constructed that without the aid of Genius, you may miss many of the references to the state of Irish life. For instance, (thanks Genius) there’s a layered reference to James Joyce in the first verse in the line “I've eddied the heart now / from Dublin to Paris”. This reference seems to juxtapose the love for Ireland’s very defined sense of place and for those born on its shores, a sense of home with the recognition that there’s much amiss.
Stopping myself before I get hella political and compare this to being an American expat for all of Trump I and the start of Trump II.
So back to the music.
I’m hard pressed to press skip on most new post-punk artists I encounter and this one was no different. But unlike Paul Banks’ monotone melodies in Interpol’s best work (love them, too!) you cannot listen to Fontaines without recognizing their unabashed IRISHNESS. It’s not the lyrics, it’s the accent! The fact that the lyrics carry extra weight and meaning to what it means to be Irish was an added benefit as I learned more about the band.
But what I love about this track is how it lured me in as a new post-punk find at Rough Trade East before the bridge revealed there’s a special Irish affinity for home being captured.
“I Will Follow (Live from Red Rocks)” - U2
In my opinion, we can’t do a 5-song non-rebel-song Irish list without including the most successful Irish band of all time.
U2’s inclusion was the subject of MUCH controversy in my closest circle as I was talking about this article. I have my own druthers with U2 (the annoying “Vertigo” iPod commercials, the adult contemporary vibe they were putting out on All That You Can't Leave Behind in my formative years, and the 2014 debacle of half a billion people getting Songs of Innocence added to their iTunes libraries against their will) — but thanks to the legend, the Queen, Yasi Salek, and her phenomenal podcast Bandsplain, I learned some of the nuances of the band that I hadn’t appreciated. Their early years particularly stood out as I listened to long-form exploration of their catalog interspersed with curated songs.
So let’s go back to 1981 U2. Before Bono got glaucoma and needed to wear sunglasses all the time. This clip begins with Bono explaining where they’re playing later, and that they’re called U2 and from Dublin — a band that at that time, needed an introduction.
The Edge’s unmistakable guitar tone undeniably kicks ass and jumps in from the very beginning. The floor tom opener perfectly compliments a thudding bass line before splashy hi-hats accelerate the introduction. Everyone takes a small step back when Bono sings his first lines before The Edge reenters the chat after the first verse. There’s a driving force, a magnetism that in retrospect makes it obvious this band has the chops to become one of the biggest in the world.
Intentionally choosing a track that doesn’t evoke the social/political commentary to come (i.e. “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and “Pride (In the Name of Love)”) would also have allowed me to choose a U2 track that fit the overarching theme of their body of work — Christianity. Honestly, I’d never realized this until Bandsplain. But the religious throughline is abundantly clear when you’re looking for it. I nearly chose “Gloria” but what I really wanted to celebrate was the early days, when they were just some lads from Dublin who met in high school, formed a band, and never broke up. And in “I Will Follow” we have the first song, on the first album, which U2 chose to introduce themselves to the world.
I love that U2 evolved from here. I love that they’ve been many things to many people. But what I really love about them as an Irish band — exhibited by this particular performance — is that they represent the strongest case for Ireland’s never-ending exports bettering the world.
The song in my Spotify playlist is not the exact live version of “I Will Follow” that I want you to hear, so I’m including the YouTube video below.
