Christian Wethered

In an exclusive interview, Irish musician Brigid Mae Power discusses her unique approach to creating art. She explores her intuitive recording process, which embraces the unpolished and emotionally direct. Power delves into her philosophy of music-making, the importance of authenticity over perfection, the challenges of creating emotionally honest music in the contemporary landscape, and staying grounded when coming up against challenges and barriers.

Teeth of Time, Joshua Burnside’s latest album, feels like a mid-career record: a precursor to middle age, to the wonders of parenthood, the mourning of what’s passed, and hopes for what’s to come. Christian Wethered caught up with him and spoke about folk, influence, and the world from which he writes. “I just try to write songs that feel honest to me.”

With their retro-sounding harmonies, there is an attractive nostalgia to The Ocelots’ new album, Everything, When Said Slowly. It’s a bittersweet, anthemic affair and a joy to listen to, with a salient groove lifting the whole thing ever so slightly—a haunting and majestic album.

RÓIS’ MO LÉAN is a masterful album with incantatory soundscapes that leave you for dead. “It’s as though Bjork was actually from Fermanagh and got really into ‘keening’.”

Throughout the gig at Whelan’s, Oisín Leech was in his element, deferring to the traditions that taught him so well. He’s that rare thing – a songwriter of the highest order who is also breathtakingly humble.

Hannah Mohan’s ‘Time is a Walnut’ conjures its own unique spell, one full of idiosyncratic turns and quirky melodies. What stays long after listening is her innovative, off-the-cuff orchestration and her myriad ways of exploring the here and now.

Lankum’s music is vital, and ‘Live in Dublin’ is nothing if not heartfelt. It descends into a session, along with its deeper and more pressing elements—people, communities, and our cultural and historical underpinnings. It’s a band at the peak of their powers.

Like the album’s title, Ora Cogan’s gift is her formlessness: her absolute refusal to bow to convention, as she tirelessly shifts and strives for something bigger – something we never expected.

Deft, bare, and quietly portentous, Niamh Regan’s second album, “Come As You Are”, is a timely stand against the unprofitable conditions for musicians in Ireland today. It’s also a brutally authentic work from a songwriter of the highest order.