O’Neill delivers a thoughtful selection box of treats to chew over.
Release Date : 19th November 2025
Label : Rough Trade
Format : Digital / Vinyl (20/2/26)
ONCE HEARD, NEVER FORGOTTEN
Although it has been a wee while since we heard from O’Neill, a smidge under 3 years, actually, despite that, she has seemed and become somewhat of a constant. This has been courtesy a slew of soundtrack appearances, notably over the closing episode of Peaky Blinders, but also popping up, literally just now, on Trespasses, C4’s Irish troubles set story. Add in her joyous elfin participation in the Pogues’ Rum, Sodomy & the Lash tour, still ongoing, worldwide, and her exposure has never been higher.
It’s true, she has a somewhat marmite appeal, such is the “mud and potatoes” of her idiosyncratic delivery, or “it’s that woman again“, as Mrs Og puts it, but I think her fabulous. Not since early Mary Coughlan has there been such exuberant Irishness in a female voice, the low and husky demeanour dwarfing even the higher pitch, raw and dusty, of Lankum’s Radie Peat. Once heard, never forgotten, and I want to hear a whole bunch more.
RICH & DIRTY
The title track runs out the first of these six songs, and doesn’t disappoint. A drone of accordion and a plucked guitar set the scene, before O’Neill keens out, rich and dirty, a fiddle gently bowing behind her. The title leaves little to conjecture as to what she is taking aim at: “Some terrors are born out of nature, some terrors are born overnight, some terrors are born out of leaders with their eye on a different prize.” Her own song, written with David Odlum, it is chilling. taking her a full 8 years to complete, finishing it earlier this year. It warrants, too, a mention of the video, below, which, directed by Ellius Grace, features, amongst others, Kae Tempest, Kevin Rowland, Spider Stacey and Iona Zajac.
GRACEFUL & DIGNIFIED
Mother Jones is then one of the historical narratives O’Neill so excels at, telling the tale of Mary Harris, refugee from the Irish famine turned Chicago union activist, predominantly on behalf of miners and their families. This so-called “most dangerous woman in America“, as the authorities deemed her in 1902, is a timely reminder of the importance of activism. It is a graceful and dignified ballad, set to piano and a full band, well the equal of such standards like Which Side Are You On and any of the many about Joe Hill. And it should become so.
SONOROUS COMPLEXITY
All The Tired Horses we know, it being her plangent version of the Bob Dylan song, playing in the background as Thomas Shelby gallops away from his burning caravan. Hard now to disassociate from that imagery, it really doesn’t matter, such a vibrant bit of film it is. But, try to excise that, as you listen again, and the sonorous complexity takes on a life of it’s own. Or try listening to Dylan’s 1970 original, to fully accommodate the alchemical transformation O’Neill has given it. With eldritch and ghostly bvs and a wheezy squeezebox, let alone all the creaky percussion, it is all again truly astonishing.
MASTERFUL PROGRESSION
I haven’t ever quite “got” Pete(r) Doherty, certainly not as the poster boy for opiated onanism he once was. I appreciate pies are more his thing, but O’Neill is more generous, with Homeless In The 1000s being, in part, a collaboration with him. A song about homelessness, subtitled Dublin In The Digital Age, and a single in January, it didn’t greatly inspire then. Looking back, this may be have been my prejudice, as, within the context of the other songs here, it works a whole lot better. I remain uncertain about Doherty’s spoken word, however well intentioned. But the simple tune, which gradually builds and progresses is masterful; think Rainy Night In Soho, which is, actually, enough, especially allied to O’Neill’s abject descriptive dispatch.
UNSUSPECTED SPARKLES
I have always loved the hymn/carol In The Bleak Midwinter and it seems that so too does O’Neill. Much covered and often over-sugared, this sails close to that, with the reverence liberally ladled in. But, as the arrangement slowly reveals unsuspected sparkles, it becomes stepwise more and more special, sentimentality be damned. Slip this in, on a Christmas playlist, and even her naysayers will love it, I guarantee. Which leaves only the spoken word recitation of Autumn 1915, by Irish poet James Stephens. This is favourite poem of the singer, recited over an ominous backdrop, largely characterised by a single drone. Only in the last 30 seconds does she break into a wordless hum, which is actually the making of this very atmospheric performance.
There is certainly enough here to keep any ardent O’Neill-er going, until any full length release. And even if this is just a stop gap solution, to gather together interim projects, it stil packs a powerful punch.
Here’s that video of the title song:
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