Album Review: Kingfishr, Halcyon

Ireland’s trad/folk revival manifests in many forms. The rowdiness of The Mary Wallopers. Amble’s nomen est omen quaintness. Kingfishr – formed by a trio of engineering students – are perhaps the most commercially driven of the crop.

Their rise has been extraordinary. They’re fast approaching two million Spotify listeners, and enjoyed a summer of packed shows across the country, with a slot at Electric Picnic and two sold-out 3Arena dates on the horizon.

At the time of writing they have three singles in the Irish charts (with ‘Killeagh’ no doubt boosted by its association with the Cork hurling team, and possibly cursed in the city by the Lee now for the painful memories it evokes).

Never mind. On Halcyon, Kingfishr affirm their ambitions with a big-sounding, radio-ready album that moves them beyond simple folk classification.

Opener ‘Man On The Moon’ wastes no time, with pounding drums, driving banjos and a belter of a chorus better suited to stadiums than pub corners. ‘I Cried, I Wept’ is even bolder, with its gritty, War On Drugs atmospherics, and lyrics that cement Eddie Keogh as one of the scene’s finest writers: “Suddenly the sky comes falling down through the drain pipe,” he sings.

‘Diamonds and Roses’ channels Disney-ballad sweetness with sprightly piano and strings, but digs deeper, referencing data collection and Guantanamo Bay and the struggle to find joy in a brutal world.

Kingfishr can keep it stripped back too – ‘Next To Me’, sweetened by acoustic guitars and harmonica, is unapologetically romantic and all the better for it.

At 16 tracks, Halcyon does run long, risking momentum. Still, this debut signals major intent for a zeitgeist-defining band rapidly becoming one of Ireland’s biggest.

8/10