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Joshua Burnside - Into The Depths Of Hell - Lyrical Analysis

Reassurances from a departed love, ancient Irish folk and unabashed anger at Satan himself combine at lightspeed on Joshua Burnside’s sophomore record ‘Into The Depths Of Hell’. Somewhere amidst the melting pot of sounds, Paul Simon-esque African groove can be found mingling with a post-punk atmosphere (And You Evade Him/Born In The Blood). In the darker corners his banjo from embryonic (but still brilliant) releases like Black Dog Sin is heard plucking away diligently, as if recovered from a time-capsule (Nothing For Ye). Elsewhere, metal strikes metal in a Belfast shipyard, while civil war breaks out in the background (I Saw The Night).

Where his NI Music Prize winning debut Ephrata teased moments of greatness, Into The Depths Of Hell spells it out like fireworks on a pitch black night. It shakes, stumbles and mourns alongside the listener, demanding another spin on the record player. To celebrate this landmark record, Taylor Johnson takes a dive into the depths of Joshua Burnside’s brain and 10 times his lyrics hit different.

1. “Nothing is bolder than the jump from the windowsill, into the depths of hell and into the clutches of the devil himself” - Under The Concrete

The opening verses to the Latin shuffle of Under The Concrete see Joshua steal redemption from the jaws of exquisitely orchestrated despair, in roughly the time it takes to light a cigarette on a windswept evening. A dark awakening, it welcomes you into his world with a weary wink, before pulling himself back from the brink , “but nevermind that talk is a little premature, I have many sins worse to commit first.” Wonderful.

2. “I was a liar when I said I am not afraid, I am” - And You Evade Him/Born In The Blood

As unlikely a single as you’ll hear this year, even a song as artistic and soundbite heavy as And You Evade Him… doesn’t miss it’s opportunity to cut right to his subject’s very core. Surrounded by fear, the Comber-born troubadour refuses to shy away from his truest feelings, redefining his vulnerabilities as strengths. It also paints him as one of us. He is human and he needs to be loved, just like everybody else does...

3. “So if there's nowhere for our souls to go then I don't want to be so sober, so” - Whiskey Whiskey

A flight to London. Sickening turbulence. Life suspended somewhere between heaven and the Earth below. Whiskey Whiskey is Burnside’s memento mori, a look into the human mind, staring death in the face. Reason can’t save him now, nor the cabin crew giving nothing away as the aircraft shudders and shakes. One of this record’s most touching moments.

4. “Just to have you to myself again, I would've waged a war on everything” - War On Everything

Some grief is only comparable to the violent swell of the sea, and War On Everything captures that desolation in a single verse. To see his beloved again, he would wage war, nothing could stop him. The lyrics here tap into something primal, making love and despair seem human rather than, as so often in pop music, superheroic.

5. “And Mr. Freud, reveals the void in our hearts, where we thought we knew the light from the dark, but there's only sex and murder in the back of our skulls” - Will You Go or Must I?

Austrian neurologist and weird-sex-guy Sigmund Freud proposed that humans have a life instinct and a death instinct. His theory was based on these drives (sex and aggression) dominating our lives. Here Burnside is toying with this concept of nihilism over a ragtime melody, that wouldn’t sound out of place on Cat Steven’s 1970 classic Tea For The Tillerman.

6. “You shall not take this land from me, for who am I, but where I am? And who I am, with therein, I'll be the night, I’ll be the night” - I Saw The Night

Buried beneath the blood and the borders, Burnside’s misanthropy is rationalised by his refusal to take sides. Peace will be his victory. Haunting electronica, accordion drones and vocoded vocals give a cabin fever closeness to the infinite night he sings about.

7. “Until eventually all of our buried skeletons are gently uncovered by smiling Americans, and all is explained, how we came to such unfortunate endings” - Driving Alone In The City At Night

A conversation with a departed friend, Driving Along In The City At Night should sound a lot more tortured than it actually does. In the context of the song, whilst not exactly cheery, the thought of being discovered in the ground alongside a loved one feels like more of an escape for our author, than a definitive ending.

8. Well, I have nothing for ye my sweet darling, If I had enough money, I'd buy you a ring, for I'm worried someday, you'll run off with a doctor, cause I had nothing for ye, my sweet darling” - Nothing For Ye

Into The Depths... emotional climax, Nothing For Ye encapsulates all that is pure and beautiful about Joshua Burnside as a storyteller. All he can offer are his songs and his heart, will that be enough, my sweet darling? A song sounding like it was written on a battlefield years ago, with bombs and bullets flying above him. Close your eyes and you’re there.

9. “One cannot be here, whilst over there, so you must remain, my kind brother” - Driving Alone In The City At Night

Another heartbreaking lyric from Driving Alone In The City At Night, here Burnside’s attempt to reconcile loss takes a gentler tone. A devastating and comforting truth. Childlike, and yet somehow seismic in its simplicity.

10. “My mother before she died, told me, son if you must be a singer, well you ought to run, down to the dole office, and sign on today, for that's where you'll be, collecting your pay.” - Nothing For Ye

Joshua Burnside’s song about being skint is priceless. Before work commenced on Into The Depths Of Hell, he could often be found nursing a Guinness at the American Bar in Belfast, listening in and occasionally taking part in the Irish-traditional jam sessions that take place behind closed doors. Musicians from across the city would meet to play songs from yesteryear, historical songs about poets and Ireland, their dreams and their families. These traditions have undoubtedly helped shape Burnside’s second record, the mark from these shared moments in every groove of the vinyl. Nothing For Ye is a song born from these times, made to be sung with arms around loved ones, late into a winter night, fire burning in the corner.

Extra reading/Bonus points

“Well, I just can't find peace in my soul, no, I just can't find it” - The Only Thing I Fear

Apparently work commenced on non-album single The Only Thing I Fear when Burnside was just fifteen years old. How can someone so young, write words so sad? With streams just outside the one million mark at time of writing, it’s unfair to call The Only Thing I Fear a lost classic. It is, however, a criminal omission from Into The Depths. Sparse, yet heavy.

Huge, yet minimal. The end and the start of the world.

Taylor Johnson

<a href="https://joshuaburnside.bandcamp.com/album/into-the-depths-of-hell">Into the Depths of Hell by Joshua Burnside</a>

Into The Depths Of Hell

I Saw The Night

Under The Concrete

AndYou Evade Him/Born In The Blood

Whiskey Whiskey

Driving Alone In The City At Night

Noa Mercier

Will You Go Or Must I?

War On Everything

Napoleans Nose

Nothing For Ye

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Sometimes years of hard work, ruthless dedication and perfect timing conspire to create something outstanding. Occasionally, the sheer fact that it's brilliant is enough. In Joel Harkin's case, the pendulum of graft and ability sits at peace in the middle, with 'Never Happy', his debut record, the fruits of a life addicted to music.

On first listen, 'Never Happy' already feels essential. Unlike it's introverted younger brother, (2018's 'Rose Water' EP) the hooks here are so sharp you almost don't want to touch them, for fear of it piercing your heart. The instrumentation shimmers; backwards banjos, plucked strings and thunderous drums all take their turn at the front of the mix at different times, never overshadowing Harkin's cries. It's been a fascinating journey for the Donegal native, which we detailed somewhat in our previous review of the single 'Vada'.

In a brave move, Harkin places his trust in the four songs that made up 'Rose Water' to form the backbone of Never Happy. These songs are given a facelift in the process and each is exponentially improved as a result. Producer George Sloan gifts an alt-country twang to proceedings, and pedal steel guitarists are drafted in from America. This is all perfectly befitting of Harkin's maudlin life lessons. On opener 'Old Churches', the introduction of Deirdre Kelly's harmonies play in tandem with Arcade Fire inspired synthesizers, and guitars that crash like waves off the coast. 'A Letter To Mark Loughrey' is similarly revitalised, but it's the primal howls at the end of 'Charlie & Deirdre' that hit home just how special this record is, and how much of himself he's poured into these songs.

The brilliance hinted at in Harkin's live shows has found its home on this LP. We hear it most clearly on 'Lake Irene''s bottleneck guitar solos and Damien Rice swell. On 'No Recycling''s bouncing chorus and stark anti-capitalist sentiments. It's a record bereft of opportunities for the skip button, designed for vinyl listening on autumnal evenings. 'Beautiful Clouded Sky' is underpinned by Belfast rain, as Harkin talks of his soul slipping from beneath him. When he sings, 'This house is cold, but Deirdre's been writing and we've a blanket on' in 'Silver Lines', you're in the room with him, taking shelter from the dark. 'We Ate Sorbet In La Rochelle' drifts in and out of focus like a fast fading dream, but there's just enough detail to keep it real.

You see, this is where Harkin truly blooms. In the aforementioned 'Lake Irene', he arrives in Kyoto to 'get off the grid' from his fictitious Tokyo home. He admires the cherry blossoms, the simpler way of living and how this may change him. He then returns us to Belfast, Dunluce Avenue, and the friends he'll never really leave behind. The trust that we've built with Joel Harkin 6 songs in to 'Never Happy' is rock solid, metaphorical or otherwise. This is a friend talking.

By the time we reach 'Thought I'd Go Home', everything has gone full circle, a song that sounds like he recorded it on his kitchen floor at 4 in the morning. The party is well and truly over, the last of the guests have left, and we're alone with an acoustic guitar. There's one last story to tell, of a beloved friend and their big brown eyes. He wonders if he was enough, and how to celebrate the simple stuff.

Despite this records title, somewhere in the debris Joel Harkin finds the contentment he's longing for. There's echoes of Oberst, Bridgers and Burnside, but the voice emerging from the gatefold vinyl is sincerely his own. A very important record.

Taylor Johnson

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Album Review | Swimmers Jackson | Murmuration

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If you're looking for divine inspiration during lockdown season, or at least a reason to turn off the news and go outside, Swimmers Jackson provide it all in 'Summer's Here'; the meandering, Fleet Foxes under-water sounding second track on their new album 'Murmuration'. A Dublin summer is encased in amber, preserved forever amidst Irish multi-instrumentalist (and former Bouts bassist) Niall Jackson's layered harmonies and twinkling acoustic guitar. You can feel the last rays of the evening summer sun as it's swallowed up beneath the city.

This isn't the only touching moment on Swimmer Jackson's long awaited debut record. 'Pain in the Heart' is an acoustic ode to a distant love, how he'd love to drive to her and take her home. The problem is, she's already there. Jackson's left fighting with himself to do the right thing, as he laments, 'I think I need help, to help myself'. 'Birthday Girl' channels similar longing through pissed off eyes, somehow maintaining a Beach Boys breeze amidst the fuzz. As his voice stretches to match his emotions, we hear a vulnerability that maintains the human touch behind these stories.

It's a refreshingly uncynical release, with little room for pretense and maximum for sentiment. Jackson continues to bare his soul on 'Believe', when he sings "I know, we've come unstuck. It all went wrong, we both fucked up." Whilst you expect a hidden chorus that doesn't come, you've already forgiven him by the time 'Pain in the Heart' and 'Bliss' hit back to back. 'Bliss' returns us to the safe haven of the record's artwork, warm 60's synths combining with finger picked acoustics to transport you back into Jackson's untainted world; but for all the pop-melodies, he still manages to throw a question mark shaped curve ball into the calm. "Bliss...how did it come to this?" Like asking yourself if your dream is real, just before waking up.

'Murmuration' still leaves space for Jackson to grow as an artist. 'Lose Myself' wanders a little lost, not quite finding it's way by the end. 'Life's Short (Embrace It)' hints at big ideas, but doesn't quite pull it off the way 'Birthday Girl' or gorgeous fever-dream closer 'So Tired' does.

There's endless landscape for Swimmers Jackson to explore on his future releases, and he has the voice to take him wherever he chooses. As a starting point, 'Murmuration' leaves you looking to the sky for more.

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Track of the Week | Joshua Burnside | Whiskey, Whiskey

by Taylor Johnson 10:26

"I've had my fair share of conversations with twisted metal and broken glass, but if lightning is gonna strike me twice, this time I'm gonna do it right."

Where do you start with Joshua Burnside? The enigmatic, alt-folk songwriter is somewhat an alien force these days. Since 2018's award winning breakout 'Ephrata', he has traveled the globe, been streamed in the millions online and offered precious little clues as to when a new LP may appear. He played the wandering folk song 'Nothing For Ye' at a live session in Austin, Texas, a hint perhaps that whilst his last full body of work took place primarily in Columbia, this time around he may be looking inward for inspiration. 'Whiskey, Whiskey' adds credence to this theory.

When Joshua Burnside paints images of the end of the world, their detail is awe inspiring. The professor sipping cold coffee and dreaming of the end in 'The Good Word', pastors and saints showing no fear in 'Blood Drive'. It's a rare gift to be as equally adept at portraying your own psyche, like the hauntingly beautiful 'Man of High Renown', or indeed any number of songs off the 'All Round The Light Said' EP. 'Whiskey Whiskey' is Joshua Burnside's most confessional song to date, meandering along finger-picked strings that sound and feel like a bicycle wheel in motion, or a vintage film projector. The low-key production and cavernous electronic intro ramp up the intensity before 'Whiskey Whiskey' draws you into this new, claustrophobic world. Like a friend talking to you under the covers, or staring out the window of a transatlantic flight.

Here Burnside lays out his fear of flying. He turns to the cabin crew for signs of danger, an affirmation of his fright. It doesn't come, and he's instead forced to fight rationale on his own, in his head. He reasons, "If there's nowhere for our souls to go, then I don't want to be so sober, so..I don't wanna die sober."

How can anyone argue with that? A heartbreaking, triumphant introduction to a new era entirely his own.

Taylor Johnson

Album Review | Arvo Party | Devotions

by Taylor Johnson 03:37

It's hard to imagine sometimes, that there was a world before this.

A connected humanity. An interactive society. We were doing so well, weren't we? Like anything, it's easy to romanticise the past, and with most of planet Earth stricken by the worst infectious outbreak since the 1800's, we are understandably desperate to resume some semblance of 'normal life'; but it wasn't all roses pre-Corona. The technology providing a crucial lifeline for families now, was for many the focal point of a colder planet. A safe haven for narcissism, bullying and fake news feeding directly into our brains, almost constantly. One positive to be grasped in all this is the appreciation of genuine human connection, and on 'Devotions', the latest record from Belfast's ambient Father figure Arvo Patry, we hear a collection of lush reunification songs. This is captured best by the albums intoxicating spinal fragments, 'sunna' and 'cristofieri', the latter appropriately named after the Italian inventor of the piano.

For a musician once at the centre of alt-rock, Tuppeny Nudgers LaFaro, Arvo Party is bassist/producer Herb Magee's opportunity to push sonic boundaries with no fear; but fear still plays it's part in 'Devotions' genetic make-up. Born within quarantine, tensions and optimism acquiesce across the record, like on the simmering, rain drop-sampling 'voivvev'. Just as Sigur Ros's masterpiece Ágætis byrjun did so well, the human voice is just another instrument in the Arvo Party cannon.

Much of 'Devotions' could soundtrack a David Attenborough documentary. In 'a history of everything including you', decades pass in seconds, millennia in minutes. You can see the Earth evolve around Magee's spectral sounds. Whether Arvo Party's work denotes a stark warning of what we may yet lose in the future, or a beacon of hope because we haven't yet lost it, will depend on what sort of day your having. The beauty in it, what makes it such a gratifying listen, is that decision remains yours.

Taylor Johnson

EP Review | Philip Watts d'Alton | Reflections

by Taylor Johnson 10:01

10 years ago Philip Watts d'Alton's band 'John, Shelly and the Creatures' were the folk pantheon of the NI Music scene. Their debut record 'Dinosaur' was a Neil Young shaped, epic road trip. Starry eyed and smelling of campfire smoke, it's magnificent lead single 'Long May You Reign' will forever be synonymous with Irish beauty spots, soundtracking a 'Discover Ireland' TV campaign. If there was a subconscious passing of the baton from Dublin beach boys The Thrills, d'Alton's band showed no signs of nerves, taking the early attention in their strides.

In the intervening years, Watts d'Alton has been far from idle. His band grew up, changing their name to Master & Dog and releasing their brooding, self-reflective debut to sweeping critical acclaim in 2012. With their alt-folk legacy all but assured, d'Alton moved into the producers chair, working on releases from Rory Nellis, Tour Alaska, Sam Wickens and more, racking up serious radio airmiles in the process. As his profile off stage continues to grow, new solo EP 'Reflections' is a timely reminder of the songwriter's ability in front of the microphone. Four tracks of wistful elegance, 'Reflections' plays along the faded lines of past glories, romances and the heartache of Summer, viewed through maturer, but ultimately happier eyes.

The deeper you dive into d'Alton's world, the clearer the water. 'Reflections' may be musically distant from 'Master and Dog', but they share a common ideology; to take you on a journey, even if they're heading in different directions.

There are moments of absolute beauty across 'Reflections', like when the title track ascends to an Elliot Smith inspired shimmering jam. Or 'Just Called's rhetorical cry's in the dark, to someone he'd do anything to reach. Indeed, Smith's influence looms large across 'Reflection', the sweetness of the music often belying the true sentiments underneath.

Take 'Trees', a trapeze dangling waltz through d'Alton's deepest autumnal thoughts. He doesn't come to any grand conclusions, as there's none to be had. Instead, he comes to accept that he's both 'made it and faded', but it's ultimately 'gone in a second'. Beatles-esque strings cut through just as your hoping for them, richly textured, deeply moving.

This is self-indulgent work of the best kind. d'Alton has made no compromises on a record made entirely for himself, on difficult days and triumphant nights; and it's this that makes it such an intoxicating listen. His penchant for soundtracking the natural (and personal) world has clearly never left him.

Taylor Johnson

Single Review | Joel Harkin | Vada

by Taylor Johnson 05:33

Joel Harkin is on a roll.

When the Donegal native first arrived in Belfast, he was as aspiring a songwriter as any. Not anymore, now he's the real thing. The release of debut EP 'Rosewater' in 2018 showcased Harkin's natural wit and conversationalist tone. At live shows, he garnered a reputation as a truly unique performer, talking to the audience in two facets. Firstly, in the space in-between. He always connected, engrossing crowds before he'd played a note on his heavily reverbed guitar. Secondly, through the songs themselves. Much like Sun Kil Moon's Mark Kozelek, Joel Harkin is a story teller with no desire to hide behind metaphor. He says exactly what he's thinking, in honest, often devastating detail. (There's a reason much of his merch is emblazoned with 'Joel Harkin Makes Me Cry')

We rejoin our hero on the cusp of releasing 'Never Happy', his debut record. Things have changed; the name Joel Harkin is synonymous across town with fatalism and tired, wandering thoughts. The kind of conversations you have by torchlight, in makeshift tents. On Rose Water's slumberous closer 'Charlie & Deirdre' he sings, "If I open my window, the city it leaks in" and on 'Vada', it's clear Joel Harkin has kept his window bolted shut. This is not a city song; this was born and raised in his subconscious, exploring a world where his childhood friends live alongside Thomas J, from the 1991 coming-of-age film 'My Girl'.

Instrumentally stunning, 'Vada' (named presumably after 'My Girl's protagonist) flows with all the ease and intensity that 'Smoke Signals' did for Phoebe Bridgers, albeit in a gentler way. You feel Harkin has really found his voice, bringing it right down to a whisper before scratching the skies when required. It's the small details that make records like this so special, and it is here that Joel Harkin is currently thriving. The unexpected colloquial hush of "We climbed a rooftop that night, so we did" looks ridiculous written down, but is captivating in Harkin's Donegal lilt. The song moves as one, clarinet and lush plucked strings reminiscing of idle days spent drinking red wine and listening to Andy Shauf's 'The Party' on repeat.

'Never Happy' may be an extraordinary record. Based off the singles we've heard so far, it will be an early contender for the NI Music Prize. It will arrive in strange times, but oddly, you feel it's author won't mind one bit.

Taylor Johnson