MayKay: “It’s so hard to explain, but if I could be anywhere in the world right now, I’d be in Aida with those people”

MayKay lets out a breath. It’s one she’s been holding in for a while.

“I’ve had this album sitting there for four years,” the singer says, nursing a cup of coffee. “I’ve been dealing with a serious crisis of confidence with releasing music.”

It’s not what you’d expect from the charismatic frontwoman who stirred synth-fuelled chaos with Fight Like Apes. But that was in another time, another place. Though the group tied up loose ends with a farewell show last year, they had ceased writing long before.

She’s still been busy though, hosting Other Voices and featuring on projects for other musicians.

“I don’t know a lot of artists who don’t get nerves when they release something,” she continues. “I was fortunate enough over the past few years to have tonnes of opportunities to collaborate.

“It’s not as scary as doing my own stuff, so I kept pushing my album back. Now, I want a bit more control over my life, because if everyone you’re working with decides to take a career break then you’re done.

“I don’t think it’s as serious as I was making it out to be in my head. The world is literally on fire! There are people all across the world who would give anything to have the privileges that I have.”

A slick, bouncy and confessional pop album, the self-titled debut was recorded during lockdown. One positive thing to come out of those few years of incubation was perspective.

“It’s about the ending of lots of relationships,” MayKay explains. “There are things about my dad, who died about eight years ago. Then there’s the shitmare that is dating. But even when things end, no matter how badly, there’s always hope that something new will start and it’ll be better.

“I would have found it hard to perform some of those songs three years ago. I was still very much in the throes of heartache.

No matter how many times someone says that it will pass, you never believe it. It’s a horrible part of the human condition.

“It’s taught me a lot about rebirth, forgiveness and redemption, and being able to learn from things that we’ve done or things that have happened to us.”

MayKay aims that last sentiment to any creeps and/or misogynistic boors on one of the album’s more snarling cuts, ‘Busted’.

“If you’ve done something creepy or inappropriate, go and own it and say, ‘I’m sorry and I hope you can forgive me and if you can’t, I understand,’” MayKay says. “Then try and live a better life.

“That doesn’t cover the serious end of the spectrum of sexual assault; I’m more talking about that day-to-day sexism.”
Was it something she came across as a fledgling musician in the 2000s, when lad culture was at its Lynx-drenched peak?

“It was definitely there, and it changes forms,” MayKay reveals. “I’d be the only girl in lots of spaces. I didn’t like the idea of anyone thinking I was vulnerable. If anyone asked, ‘Have you ever had any bad experiences?’ I would just say ‘no’, because I’d be thinking of the serious end of the spectrum.

“On reflection, there have been a million rooms I’ve been in where comments have been made or someone’s done something.

“I went back to my accommodation after a gig one night and a guy I’d been working with – I don’t know how – let himself into my room. I didn’t lose my mind. I basically said, ‘Let’s go downstairs for a drink,’ just to get him out. I don’t think I ever told anyone that.

“If that was another young woman, I’d be like: ‘You need to make as much noise as you can and go fucking insane.’ It’s really complicated. I wish I’d been more aware then of things that were inappropriate and taken them more seriously.”

One thing MayKay takes very seriously is her role in Irish Artists for Palestine. She was recently involved in bringing over the

Daughters of Jerusalem women’s choir from the occupied West Bank for a string of shows across Ireland.

Our interview happens to take place the morning after the latest ceasefire was announced.

“I just have to think about what it must feel like for the people suffering the most. It must send hope to them,” she says. “But the fact the whole world hasn’t isolated Israel, divested entirely, and sanctioned them blows my mind. I hope that this ceasefire means the end of the unimaginable suffering.”

MayKay on October 9th, 2025. Copyright Abigail Ring/ hotpress.com

She’s seen that suffering – and resilience – first hand, having spent time at the Aida refugee camp in Bethlehem with ACLAÍ, a community gym founded by Belfast native Ainle Ó Cairealláin.

“It completely changed my entire life and who I am,” MayKay says of the experience. “I would freely admit that I didn’t know a lot of things. I didn’t know that the refugee camps aren’t always camps with tents. They can be high-rise buildings crammed together, surrounded by settlements.

“They regularly have their water and electricity cut off. They’re not allowed to display flags; they don’t wear Keffiyehs; they can’t show anything that would be considered resistance, which includes watermelons.

“In the same way we hear about from decades ago in Ireland, they meet in each other’s homes to play music and dance. The kids are taught about their history; they’re taught about their oppressor and they share those stories.

“I felt so safe in the camp. It’s so hard to explain, but if I could be anywhere in the world right now, I’d be in Aida with those people. The nightmares of capitalism and imperialism don’t exist in that little space because it’s what everybody is fighting against. That’s not to romanticise, but just to say that the resilience of those people cannot be overstated.”The contrast with what’s happening on the other side is dystopian.

“You go through a border crossing and you’re suddenly in a place steeped in wealth and westernism,” MayKay says. “I was only in what we’re calling Israel to get to and from places. I didn’t speak to anyone. I didn’t buy a bottle of water. It’s frightening, the dehumanisation. You would be stunned into silence and tears. I found it incredibly distressing and confusing.

“I don’t understand how it got to this or how it was ignored for so long. It’s not quick to put up a wall or to segregate an entire community. When you don’t see things, it’s easier to ignore them. But we’re talking about a large population who are metres away from a besieged population. Travelling between Tel Aviv Airport and the camp is so quick. It’s such a small piece of land and it’s an absolute living nightmare.”

Indeed, it was the plight of Palestine that inspired MayKay to cover a Sinéad O’Connor classic, bringing the Fight Like Apes farewell shows to an emotional close last year.

“‘Black Boys On Mopeds’ is a timeless piece of art about oppression,” she says. “I’m not an idiot, I didn’t want to straight-up cover Sinéad O’Connor’s song – she’s one of the most amazing vocalists of all time. So Jamie [Fox] changed it and it sounded like a Fight Like Apes song. I was very grateful for that.

“We put a graphic at the back of the stage of the names of Palestinian people who’ve been murdered in the last couple of years. We didn’t want to end on anything else. I wanted to leave people with that.”

• MayKay is out now.