Blood, Glass and Gasoline

This album is not the future of rock n roll. It’s far more urgent than that. It’s the sound of now. And now is not history’s brightest moment. Now is full of darkness and sadness and loss for so many. Anxiety, heartache, bewilderment, and despair. But if this album is the sound of lockdown in Dublin’s, it’s not the sound of the clampdown. Far from it. This is an album of resistance, of hope in the darkness. Of beating the clock, squeezing out sparks in the dusty cellars of our despair. Lighting candles with the pennies we’d saved, or stolen, or dreamt of. This is not the sound of the crowd. It’s certainly not the sound of the spirit level on immaculately, generically identikit city streets.