Live Report: Dove Ellis mesmerises during first-ever Dublin headliner

Who the hell is Dove Ellis? It’s not the first time someone has asked.

Here’s what we know: his real name is Thomas O’Donoghue, he’s from Galway, lives in Manchester, and opened for 2025’s darlings Geese on their North American tour. His debut album, Blizzard, landed late last year to considerable critical acclaim for his vocal talent, poetic lyricism, and cinematic blend of intimate folk with more experimental, expansive moments.

Despite the attention, he’s kept to himself. He has minimal social media presence and does very few interviews. It’s an anti-playbook for the modern age, which has only deepened the mystique and interest surrounding him.

Dove Ellis at Workman's on May 18, 2026. Photo: Cat Gundry-Beck.

Tonight, he is the reason the Workman’s Club is rammed and sweaty. Indie kids, folk acts, underground rockers, and members of bands with number one albums have all gathered to get a glimpse.

When Ellis and his band walk out there are some cheers, followed by a blanket of silence. There will be stretches of quiet between songs throughout, and sometimes it’s hard to tell whether it's because people don’t know how to react or they're choked up in reverence. He’s difficult to make out from the back, but two lights shaped like mosquito eyes glow behind his head, giving him an amber halo that does nothing to dispel his aura.

The band open with an unreleased track, ‘The Royal Brown Hole’. It’s a long, droning song, with a sweet and sad violin line and dynamic falsettos that make the Jeff Buckley comparisons easy to understand. Ellis follows with ‘Pale Song’,  which is more familiar thanks to the slick jangly guitar and a chorus that can be sung back, as the crowd peps up for the first time.

From there he moves through more tunes from Blizzard. ‘When You Tie Your Hair Up’ begins sparse and clinical before erupting into a firestorm of desperation, while ‘Jaundice’ - a mix of an Irish jig, Geese, and 'Moo Moo Meadows' from Mario Kart - features lyrics that seem to point at the unfairness of circumstance and birth.

I say ‘seem’ because Ellis’ songs are full of lyrical abstractions, personal metaphors, and surreal imagery. It’s poetically impressive but it can be hard to pin down what he’s on about, which is fine and no doubt intentional. Someone who can sing as well as Ellis can write whatever way they want anyway (he could lilt the McDonald’s drive-thru menu over sax and violin and it would probably still sound prophetic).

Dove Ellis at Workman's on May 18, 2026. Photo: Cat Gundry-Beck.

‘Love Is’ is when life really starts to ripple through the room. The crunchy guitar and rousing chorus spur the evening’s biggest sing-song. Ellis and his crowd roar his clearest emotional statement: “Love is not the antidote to all your problems.” It's a well-earned reaction, as if the gig until that point was spent stockpiling the audience’s energy.

Ellis' unreleased material points to something even more interesting. ‘Marooning’ sees him sit down at the piano and produce an oddly time-signatured and detailed ballad that is equal parts The Pogues and Herbie Hancock, suggesting that whatever comes next will be stranger and better still.

Even in a room where you could reach out and touch him, you don't leave knowing much more about Dove Ellis than when you arrived. But maybe that's the point. In an era where young artists are stressed over posting content, Ellis reminds us that if you’re good enough people will have no choice but to show up.