Dahí Jim is a young Dublin troubadour who appears to be deeply concerned about the state of the country. If there’s a theme running through his debut, it’s one of disenchantment with the current state of affairs as he deals with issues such as emigration and the ongoing sense of dislocation of an entire generation.

What the songs sometimes lack in melodic invention, they make up for in lyrical potency. He sets out his stall on the lively opener ‘Somewhere’, railing against “A nation on its knees, smothered by greed, every Jim and Joe on the street is groping for something.”

‘Tomorrow’ falls between a desire to break out almost in Springsteen fashion (“I want some music, rhythm and soul busting out of my radio”) before bowing to what seems like inevitable defeat and despair. “Sometimes,” he sings, “I find myself falling down to pray that tomorrow doesn’t come”.

‘A Little Prayer’ is almost elegiac in comparison. A soft piano-led ballad, it broaches the subject of separation and possibly even suicide: “There’s just too much heartache on this rock we call our home – I wanted to be gone.”

Elsewhere, the rhythmic ‘Australia’ takes the form of poignant correspondence between an expat son in Perth and his father at home, where Dahí Jim cleverly mixes everyday observations with deeper matters: “Dear Son, Your life has just begun, don’t look back now/ I know it’s hard out there alone, but there’s nothing here at home, you’ll get by somehow.” The playing throughout is loose and organic in an indie/punk style, while the no-nonsense production approach suits the material. Worth checking out.