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.

"I want to be more accomplished...I wanna be like you, I wanna have a big IQ and have a kid like who would want to fill my shoes, you always pushed me to know more than what I think I do"

When young Dublin rapper JyellowL crossed paths with Scottish/Irish electro-pop duo SIIGHTS all the ingredients for a heartbroken banger were in place. Still, it takes real skill to tie it all together and on 'Blue Skies', something clicks. The lead single from SIIGHTS debut EP already carried the emotional weight of a personal loss, before JyellowL (born Jean-Luc Uddoh) laid down his verses for the remix, as SIIGHTS explain:

“We reached out to JyellowL and having him involved has been amazing. He’s so talented, we love what he brought to the track and the personal perspective he shared lyrically. This song means a lot to us and was hard to write. We have both lost people close to us and it’s something that stays with you forever.”

What we're left with is a track of sharp pop nous, and emotional turmoil; led primarily by the Irish rapper's hold-steady rhythms and clarity behind the microphone. JyellowL has a habit of making the intangible, tangible and the personal, universal. Verbiage and rhetoric are cast aside in favour of simplicity, a mindset that once turned Mike Skinner into a household name.

Whether tackling the financial crisis of 2008, racial abuse, or the loss of a loved one, his is a voice of increasing importance in a world crying out for a straightforward message.

·

"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."

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.

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.

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.

When Derry punk-trio Cherym released 'Abigail' earlier this year, the game changed.

A dynamic, pop-punk punch to the throat, 'Abigail's penchant for sparking a singalong was obvious from the first riff. The nuances were subtle, the delivery biting and when you've a chorus that good, it's difficult to get things wrong. On debut EP 'Mouthbreatherz', we heard a band finding their feet, albeit with brilliant songs like 'Pretty Boys' and 'Take It Back' pointing the way forward. 'Weird Ones' is a different beast altogether.

A darker edged, critical swipe at the friends who walk away, Cherym aren't happy losing their shit at a house party here. In fact, they aren't happy at all. When Hannah Richardson spits, "Stop, what's this? Yeah I see her in your friends list", you can feel the coruscating hurt. It's a fightback song, made all the more immediate by the melodies entrenched around her words. We hear a huge influence for the first time from Simon Neil, with an intro and verses particularly reminiscent of Biffy Clyro's breakthrough pop-crossover 'Puzzle'. Like the Biff in their punk heyday, 'Weird Ones' takes a break from chasing the effervescent pop-smash chorus we all know they can do, instead letting their emotions pour out in a different, more considered way. We do not yet know if Cherym are planning a debut record, but with an ever growing catalog of diverse, invigorating pop at their disposal, their canvas is getting bigger.

The hooks remain sharp and the rhythm is pounding, but 'Weird Ones' shows that Cherym are just as happy to go 12 rounds and win on points, as they are to knock you out in 1 punch. A welcome and exciting evolution.