21
Come As You Are, Niamh Regan’s second album, is a timely stand against the unprofitable conditions for musicians in Ireland today. It is a wholehearted appeal to everyone – listeners, officials, friends, lovers, and the public at large – to wake up and support her and others on their journey. At the same time, her sound marks an important shift from 2020’s Hemet, as it shifts from pared-down indie folk to post-garage and, in the case of one song, minimal house.
Come As You Are bristles with chutzpah, vocal finesse, and stark authenticity. She’s mastered the parlando of Bill Callahan, Laura Marling and Sam Amidon and made it her own. Her sound evokes the likes of Lemoncello or Niamh Bury – though it is perhaps sparer, as though she’s speaking into your ear.
The first track, Madonna, is a welcome throwback to her quieter numbers, Something So Good or How About That Coffee? As ever, Regan’s signature, casual tone belies a wry eye over proceedings as she clinically dismantles her lover’s casual misogyny: ‘A Madonna-Whore complex: is it a thing?’ Throughout this song, she toes the line between levity and anger – always with the same yearn that refuses to fade.
And while Madonna beguiles and plays games, Belly points to a larger, grittier sound – at once angstier and grungier, à la Ailbhe Reddy or Julia Jacklin. Meanwhile, the non-reverb Pixies or Wilco-esque snare in the background is never too far off, like a portent from the 90s, and grounds her sound in indie nostalgia.
Music, already a standout success, is an effective broadside against cultural apathy in the arts. ‘Music doesn’t do it for you anymore’, she jeers, either to a lover or her audience at large. Are we not entertained? When she played this song at Other Voices last year, she expertly combined close, spoken mic-work with a louder, fuller band, her soft voice drawing and instructing the whole sound with aplomb; she had the audience in the palm of her hand.
Nice is a dark and hypnotic song that comes out of nowhere and is yet also a logical evolution from a previous mode or musical identity. ‘I’m too nice/ Walk all over’, she muses, somewhat passively, over a Clean Bandit-esque backdrop. The song’s folky but house-driven appeal and catchiness aren’t a million miles from the likes of I Follow Rivers by Lykke Li, as a detached voice complements the genre, while calling out for a remix, bigger venues, wider audiences etc. It is a successful collaboration with co-songwriter and producer Tommy McLaughlin and represents an exciting and auspicious new direction.
But Regan’s greatest strength will always remain her ability to strip a song down to its constituent parts. This is notably hard to do – the sound flirting with the uncannily spoken likes of Fionn Regan, Wilco or Tindersticks. Paint a Picture achieves just this – and is another throwback to her older songs, where each inflection is a brushstroke, a brief impression. Once more, in this song, she mourns her lack of income: ‘Some days I hope I don’t have to live that long / Cause I really don’t have the money.’ How does a talented and ‘successful’ artist in 2024 marry artistic integrity with financial security?
Mortgage is another clear highlight, with its 2024 contractual connotations that pin you down. Just as the word literally means ‘contract until death’, we infer that her relationship is another kind of mortgage: a suffocating, fearful, and, ultimately, toxic dream. The drone of the organ, with its keening and air of tragedy, echoes Big Thief’s Mary or even Lisa O Neill’s Rock the Machine. The hidden track at the end further develops the sense of doom and is a retributive waving of the fist to all the city councils, the hoteliers on the quays, the casual naysayers and begrudgerers in Ireland today. ‘You still at the music?’ she reiterates ironically and somewhat scornfully.
The end of this song is full of longing and almost too hard to bear. Fortunately, she clings to a hopeful, fleeting image of a running car before it speeds away: ‘I know you’re out there waiting for me / Hang in there honey / Keep the car running and save my seat.’ Suffice to say, for the irrepressible Regan, there is always a seat going. Deft, bare, and quietly portentous, Come As You Are is a brutally authentic work from a songwriter of the highest order.
‘Come As You Are’ will be released on vinyl, CD, and digital on May 31st, 2024, via Faction Records.
