Alive in 2025

Settling into the year with a Squarehead classic, plus new music from Sal Dulu, SuperValu, Mantua, Brigid Mae Power and more

It feels a bit weird to be writing a new year post at the end of January, but here we are. I hope the month has been kind to you, and the storms – literal and otherwise – haven’t been battering your spirit too hard. Yikes.

It’s been a little over ten years since I first heard the song that’s been stuck in my head for the past 29 days. Squarehead’s ‘2025’ was released in September 2013 as a single from their second album, RESPECT, but I didn’t catch it until a year and a bit later, when they debuted its music video starring Domhnall and Brian Gleeson, who recreated their childhood home movies to accompany the Dublin band’s bittersweet indie-rock. It became a bit of a fixture among some friends and I in 2015, as the whole record soon did. I remember screeching along to it more than once during Strange Brew gigs at the Roisin Dubh, and gushing to at least one member about how much it meant to me at the time. Listening to the lyrics now – as I have done many times since – it strikes me how little has changed in how it hits…

When I was young I knew just what to do
Walking down on Beechwood Avenue
I'm not too old for sympathy
For culture that is crushing me

If I'm alive in 2025
I’ll call you up and talk about your life
The future seems so out of place
Holding on to water's taste

Back then, 2025 seemed inconceivable – a point so distant from my graduate age brain that it didn’t bear considering. I was too busy sinking pints and seeing bands. Ten years later, 2035 seems equally obscure in many ways, although certainly less so in others. Christ, given ~ the state of things ~ on a global scale, it’s difficult to even picture how next week will look. The future has rarely seemed so out of place, and the fuckers hell bent on making things worse have never been more emboldened in doing so. I’m just clinging to the possibility that in a decade’s time they won’t be there anymore, and maybe we will. A lot will change, sure, but maybe they’ll be dead and we’ll go see some bands and sink some pints for old times’ sake? Maybe we’ll talk about how clever those lads from Dublin were when they wrote that songs 20 years ago or more. Maybe we’ll all be fine? Maybe!?

Anyway, word on the street is Squarehead have a new album on the way, but in the meantime, we’ve got plenty of new music out right now. This month’s round-up has modular synth experiments, mercurial hip-hop, DIY doom pop, folk covers, jazzy electro, intricate sound art and more. Dive in below.

Eistigí.

SuperValu - Loss Leader [Countersunk]

We’ve got a Dunk Murphy double bill this month. First up, the Dublin synthesist – once described by Autechre’s Rob Brown as “probably one of the best musicians on the planet” – returns to his SuperValu alias with a 16-track suite of “algo-machine funk”. As with 2020’s €808 – a 54-minute piece comprising 808 variations of a single polyrhythmic loop – there are some generative modular techniques at play here, conjuring electronic melodies and beats that wriggle, shift and evolve in organic and irregular patterns. It’s music that, quite literally, has a life of its own – like the polychromatic animations that accompany each track, or a post-smoke stroll down the aisles of your local Big Shop, the results are mesmerising and dazzlingly bright.

I’m not savvy enough with synths to understand how this stuff works – although I’ve always enjoyed Emily A. Sprague’s generative ambient demos on YouTube. What I do know is that if you’re new to the Countersunk label founder’s catalogue, Loss Leader is a very good place to start. Some cuts are reminiscent of the crunchy early 2000s IDM he released on Planet Mu as a member of Ambulance, while others twist the circuits of Detroit techno, electro and Autechrean ambient into his own signature framework. Algorithmic trickery notwithstanding, this music is 100% Murphy’s. Slam Dunk.

Minced Oath - Glares [Fort Evil Fruit]

As Minced Oath, Murphy tends toward more ambient terrain. Last September, I wrote about Two Way Silver, an eerie EP for which he fed atmospheric noise sourced from old vampire films through harmonic resonators before decorating the results in glitching synths and rhythmic effervescence. Now, for Fort Evil Fruit, he sculpts an electroacoustic suite of reverberant drones and gamelan-esque percussion that’ll please fans Pauline Oliveros’ Deep Listening, Natalia Beylis’ Invaded By Fireflies and Wolfgang Voigt’s GAS. Over the course of six tracks, metallic bells, symbols and chimes resonate in panoramic surround sound, conversing in loose, hypnotic patterns over buzzing sub-bass frequencies and rustling textures. Uncanny and absorbing as the tenebrous black water that appears on the cover – courtesy of photographer David Cleary – this music ebbs and swells in slow, enveloping arcs. Like a haunted gong bath or a trance-inducing ritual, it invites total immersion, so pop your headphones on, lie back, and let it swallow you into its oozy depths.

Mantua - high talk/swell divide

I don’t normally include singles in this newsletter, but I’m making an exception for this murky piece of DIY doom pop from Cork’s Elaine Malone, who returns to her Mantua alias after a period that’s seen her collaborating with cult New Zealand guitarist Roy Montgomery and playing harmonium and singing in the psych rock band pôt-pot, whose debut EP I wrote about here. ‘high talk/swell divide’ is only two minutes and 36 seconds long, and its ingredients are pretty sparse: stoner rock guitar strums submerged in fuzz, a skeletal drum machine beat, layers of murmured vocals that waver and evaporate in clouds of reverb. Short and simple as it may be, the world Malone builds in its runtime should be catnip for fans of HTRK, Klein or Elaine Howley’s The Distance Between Heart And Mouth.

The track arrives a little over half a year after ‘seek you out’, an eerie lullaby that raised funds for Medical Aid Palestine and is apparently set to appear on a forthcoming Mantua album called eyefuckingpeopleinairports. While no further info about that release, or whether ‘high talk/swell divide’ will even feature on it, is available just yet, you can wait with bated breath and dig into Malone’s catalogue in the meantime. Folk-horror drone hymns and shadowy psychedelia await.

Sal Dulu - Nafuchsia In Fantasy

It’s no surprise to learn that Sal Dulu works to a nocturnal schedule. The Dublin-based producer’s music is the stuff of waking dreamstates, in which fragments of reality fold into the hypnagogic haze to create something uncanny, psychedelic and new. In Nafuchsia In Fantasy, his second album, this manifests in snippets of old TV adverts, brass and string samples, and voice notes from his girlfriend, which are stitched into modular swells and swirling textures steeped in reverb and delay. It’s an abstract tapestry held in place with dusty beats and breaks: ‘Maximous Maybe Not’, ‘Something Is Missing’ and ‘Battlestar’ are propelled by filigreed drumfunk stutters; ‘Full Metal’ and the Fly Anakin-featuring ‘Neri Eyes’ are buoyed by ethereal boom-bap.

There are moments of anxiety, like ‘All Day Apathy’ and the congested and palpitating ‘Trapped in Container Hell’, which was inspired by the states of panic that would sometimes wake him late at night. But there are also snapshots of serenity like ‘Bulldog In Paris’ and ‘Don’t Fade Away’, in which his partner speaks in soft, mundane meanders over a collage of ambient soundscapes and jazz samples. Some moments, like closing track ‘Nafuchsia’, capture both moods at once, with scattershot glitches and percussion being gradually subsumed in angelic choral synths and mellifluous strings, like the sweet, sedative relief of sleep.

Brigid Mae Power - Songs for You

Brigid Mae Power pays tribute to her late father in this stripped-back covers album. Taking on songs that soothed her in the months following his death, the Galway singer-songwriter imbues lyrics from the likes of Roy Orbison, Neil Young, Bert Jansch, Cass McCombs and Television’s Tom Verlaine with new meaning, filtering them through the complicated prism of grief with minimalist folk arrangements and vocals filled with tenderness and the gentle strength that’s become her trademark.

Orbison’s lovelorn ballad ‘In Dreams’ assumes a new poignancy in Power’s hands – a sweetly lamenting ode to someone no longer there, who we may meet again when we sleep. One could read the volatile, messy headspace of mourning into her acoustic take on Television’s ‘See No Evil’ or Waylon Jennings’ ‘Walk On Out Of My Mind’ – a longing to disengage from reality, to forget, even temporarily. Renditions of Slim Whitman’s ‘Rose Marie’ – itself an interpretation of an early 20th century operetta – and Jimmy MacCarthy’s ‘Missing You’ – popularised by Christy Moore – reveal the timelessness of this music and the feelings expressed within it.

And of course, it’s possible that these songs were simply a comfort during a difficult period in Powers’ life – her take on Young’s ‘Mellow My Mind’, McCombs’ ‘Angel Blood’ and Cindy Walker’s ‘You Don’t Know Me’ are certainly a salve – and no other meaning need be applied to them beyond that. Whatever way you interpret it, it doesn’t really matter: this collection is a personal document for Power, one she can hold close to her own heart regardless. I suspect many others will be doing the same.

Ahmed, With Love., Curtisy, Kylté - Ahmed, With FRIENDS! Vol 1: Friday At Kylté's [Brook Records]

Ahmed, With Love. follows October’s excellent ‘COMMA, FULLSTOP.’ mixtape – which I wrote about here – with the launch of a brand new series. The first edition of Ahmed, With FRIENDS! is a three-track link up with producer Kylté and rising rapper Curtisy, whose May 2024 album WHAT WAS THE QUESTION was a late discovery for me – sorry – but has been getting repeat spins ever since. Maintaining their shared momentum, this release kicks things up a notch with each MC coaxing the best out the other, all underscored by beats that burst with verve and colour.

‘Bronco Loko.’ – which comes accompanied by a great video – feels like a ‘COMMA, FULLSTOP.’ victory lap. Tapping into the same bossa nova grooves that made that release so fun, its organ flourishes and electric guitar licks wriggle around the duo’s laid-back verses, each filled with hedonistic mischief and winking braggadocio. ‘Ratatouille’ keeps the vibe high with a tasty G-funk beat, while ‘Tax Haven’ ends it all on a honeyed melodic note with our stars trading anecdotes as they would on any Friday night at a pal’s house, with a mic in hand and the DAW loaded up.

Karen Power - … we return to ground… [Other Minds Records]

Okay so this album was actually released in July 2024, but considering it took eight years to make and was recently selected as one of ten favourites for the Académie Charles Cros’ prestigious experimental music prize, it really doesn’t feel like a stretch to write about it over six months later – should it ever?

Karen Power is a composer and sound artist from Cork whose work encompasses acoustic instrumentation and environmental soundscapes. …we return to ground… is the result of a long-running collaboration with Quiet Music Ensemble, whose musicians enter an intimate dialogue with Power’s field recordings over the course of three compositions and 109 minutes. Accompanied by extensive liner notes from the experimental musician and writer David Toop, and explanatory program notes by Power herself, there’s a lot to sink your teeth and ears into, more than I have space to get into here, but if you’re someone who enjoys music that lets natural soundscapes take centre stage rather than play an atmospheric supporting role, you’re in for a real treat. As Toop puts it: “What we are hearing is not reducible to ‘music’ and ‘nature’; there is an acknowledgement that the senses are not separate. They are fluid, sometimes interchangeable in their perception of worlds, and those worlds overlap, become each other.”

It’s the moments when those boundaries are most blurred that create the most immediately enticing experiences. In the opening title piece, John Godfrey’s electric guitar, Ilse De Ziah’s cello, Seán Mac Erlaine’s clarinet and Dan Bodwell’s double bass scratch and groan against scurrying sounds of nature before slowly folding into currents of sloshing water. In ‘Sonic Pollinators’, these instruments mingle with and mimic the drone of swarming bees; ‘Instruments Of Ice’ builds an uncanny soundscape before ending in a foghorn-esque climax. It’s work that rewards patience and an open mind. If this sparks your curiosity, I’d really recommend Anton Spice’s Through Sounds newsletter, which explores the ways in which sound “mediates the relationship between humans and the environment”.

ZOiD - ZOiD Vs Musicians Vol 2 + REMIXES

November’s ZOiD Vs Musicians Vol 2 saw Daniel Jacobson pull off a rare trick: the Dublin electro and IDM producer collaborated with a cohort of jazz artists and wound up with a complimentary suite of stylistic fusions, the all-too-common pitfalls of tasteless genre-clashing dodged. This was thanks in part to his years of proficiency in both realms, but the skills his players brought to the table certainly didn’t hurt: vocalist Jenna Harris’ wordless coos weave round a minimal techno throb in ‘Zvjh’; Niwel Tsumbu’s virtuosic guitar playing prances on a stomping beat in ‘Zvnt’; saxophonists Catherine Sikora, Daniel Rorke and Steve Walsh make small work of the myriad bleeps, bloops and rhythmic bumps they’re set up against. Jacobson’s jazz drumming brother Matthew turns ‘Fit In Tree’ into a sprawling cosmic centrepiece, right before Bill Blackmore’s trumpet skirts round the bass and breaks of ‘Ringding’.

Kirk Degiorgio brings that track into soulful bruk territory on the subsequent remix EP that arrived in December, while Spandex adds an electroid house twist to ‘Fortune Favours (feat. Matthew Berrill)’. TR One turns ‘Module Bone’ into a jukey acid scorcher, before Americhord and Celica take things deeper with their reworks of ‘Ambop’ and ‘Zvcs’. Turns out, when it’s ZOiD versus musicians, everyone’s a winner.

Pesci Tooth - DarkMoonBow

There’s something eerily enticing about Pesci Tooth’s DarkMoonBow. Making use of modular synths and samples, the Dublin-based multidisciplinary artist invites us onto the bench that adorns its cover as the encroaching darkness closes in, to watch the shards of strange light play shapeshifting tricks in front of us. Vocalist Pippa Molony – whose Hungry Ghost EP I covered here – delivers murmured incantations over Mezzanine-esque trip-hop in ‘SafeForMe’, and is reprised later in the dark ambient dub of ‘Ishimura’.

‘Cybil’, ‘SafeRoom’ and ‘Unusual Rider’ are exercises in spectral dubstep sliced with horror flick strings and operatic vocal fragments. ‘Memory 23’ paints haunted footwork with the same palette, before Dj Clench roughs it up with thundering bass and breaks.

Leo Miyagee & Eulogy - Vein of folly

I’ve always liked Belfast rapper Leo Miyagee’s laid-back take on hip-hop; his introspective verses and featherweight flow bounce effortlessly around jazzy boom-bap beats. So I was caught a little off guard when I first heard VEIN OF FOLLY, a new collaborative album with producer Eulogy that finds him tackling UK rap and grime, along with flourishes of early 2010s electronica. I needn’t have worried: Miyagee demonstrates an impressive versatility here without so much as breaking a sweat.

In ‘DUBLIN’, he languishes on a smoky slow-mo beat, while ‘DEVENISH’ is a moreish slice of mellow drill. ‘BILLS’ interpolates that one song from Grease over a dusty post-dubstep stutter with surprisingly strong results, while the growl in ‘JACK JOHNSON’s bass is matched only by Miyagee’s own. ‘$yNERGY’ is an apt title for the album’s closer, its beat bearing Eulogy’s digital trademarks with an added boost of the soul Miyagee’s best known for. The pair seem to bring out the best in each other, so there’ll be no complaints here if there’s more of this to come.

That’s it for this month! Catch you next time.