Style: Doom metal, drone, post-metal, sean-nós (Clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Sumac, Myrkur, Agalloch, Unreqvited
Country: Ireland
Release date: 3 February 2025
With a recent series of reviews under my belt featuring analyses on traditional folk styles and music hearkening back to ancient times, I find myself becoming enamored with ethnomusicology: not only am I now tasked with understanding and analyzing artists’ points of view, but when reviewing music that uses traditional ideas, writeups end up involving a ton of up-front research about the styles and their context in both the ancient and modern musical zeitgeist. There is a wealth of fascinating history in music and its evolution across time and cultures, and now that I am drunk with the power of knowledge, there is nothing you can do to stop me from telling you about it. To further instill my position, we will discuss the recent Fós release, Níl mo chroí in aon rud (Irish for ‘My Heart Isn’t in Anything’), their use of sean-nós vocal style, and how they integrate this centuries-old approach into a decidedly modern metal context. Even if composer Fionn Murray’s heart isn’t in anything, is there heart to be found in Níl mo chroí in aon rud?
Níl’s style is a bit difficult to pin down, sitting somewhere between ethereal post-metal that builds on a central vocal idea (“Molly na gChuach ní Chuilleanáin”1), grungy doom metal with scratchy guitar textures (“Bádai na Scadán”2), and the more experimental end of Sumac’s droning and improvised sludge metal (“Táim i mo shuí”3). Hazy and occasionally surreal passages are punctuated by ethereal singing that uses the aforementioned sean-nós technique. With a presence in Ireland stretching back hundreds if not thousands of years, sean-nós (Irish for ‘old style’) vocals are centered on free-time melodic ideas and a healthy dose of ornamentation, indulging in flourishes as long as needed; the lyrics utilized in these songs can be seen as a reflection of a community’s ideals and stories,4 while the emotions imparted into these lyrics show the individual’s relationship to these stories. While typically performed unaccompanied, the principles of sean-nós are utilized wherever possible on Níl, whether the vocals are calling from between free-time dissonant guitar stabs on “Táim i mo shuí” or ringing out proudly over the sounds of a fire on “Molly na gChuach ní Chuilleanáin”.
The central focus of sean-nós is its dialogical nature, placing a strong emphasis on an individual conveying the feelings of a story to a community as opposed to adhering to strict technique and form.5 On Níl, vocalist Susan ní Cholmáin explores a wide range of emotions to great success, turning the conventional sentiments of Irish folk songs on their heads with the help of Murray’s instrumentation. “Táim i mo shuí” is likely the most subversive and the most stunning, repurposing a tale about lovesickness into a churning, ominous, and surreal nightmare; the end result is an anxiety-provoking testament to unrequited love. The use of free-time is particularly clever on “Táim”, allowing gorgeous and ethereal vocal lines to breathe organically while crunching and droning guitars betray the continual decay of the narrator’s wellbeing. At one point, the guitars drop out completely and ní Cholmáin’s voice is accompanied by little other than manic percussion and creaking soundscapes, bringing the unease to a powerful climax. Even though “Táim” breaks from the traditional mold with a prominent musical accompaniment, it’s a consummate example of sean-nós’ effectiveness in a more contemporary musical context.
On the flip side, “An Mhaighdean Mhara”6 explores more majestic and wondrous sentiments, telling the story of a selkie who must return to the sea after a life on land. In the original telling, this is a bittersweet lament for a woman who has to give up life as she knows it; “Mhaighdean”, however, betrays optimism and wonder at a new-yet-familiar chapter in life, like returning to a beloved hometown after a decade away. While its opening and closing moments almost reach the transcendent heights of “Táim i mo shuí”, its middle section stumbles through extended awkward rhythmics. The synthesizers augment the track’s feelings of optimism, but they are timed in a way that wholly clashes with the magnificent vocal performance, diminishing its mythical atmosphere. The unaccompanied vocals beforehand set a fantastic precedent for “Mhaighdean” and the fuller instrumentals later in the track gel much nicer with the vocals for a satisfying conclusion, but this center section is a difficult-to-ignore blemish.
Where Níl suffers the most is in its myriad interludes and its one weaker track, “Slán le Maigh”.7 The album’s three small interludes add little to the already potent atmosphere and lead to a sense of incompleteness in an already short album—their absence would would do wonders for the flow if trimmed down and incorporated more holistically into the present songs. Additionally, short albums suffer harder at the hands of weaker tracks, and “Slán le Maigh” is, ironically, the runt of Níl despite being its longest piece. The vocal melodies are undoubtedly lovely, but its rhythms don’t play nice with ní Cholmáin’s voice and its central ideas never really take off in a satisfying way. And it’s not because Fós struggle with this style of songwriting either, as “Molly na gChuach ní Chuilleanáin” follows a similar structure to great success. One of Níl’s most triumphant moments, “Molly” intermixes free-metered ideas with gorgeous ear-catching melodies augmented by an explosive second half, showing an acumen for post-metal songwriting that is woefully missing from “Slán le Maigh”.
Fós carve out a compelling niche for themselves on Níl mo chroí in aon rud, smartly utilizing experimental metal in conjunction with an ancient vocal technique. While Níl’s title tries to suggest otherwise, Murray wears a profound love for Ireland’s cultural history on his sleeve through his thoughtful incorporation of sean-nós. At the same time, Murray displays a willingness to push the envelope by subverting the traditional sentiments found in many of the island’s renowned folk pieces. Despite the presence of a few momentum-breaking interludes and weaker passages across its runtime, I have my ear close to the ground in anticipation of Fós’ next exploration into Irish musical history.8
Recommended tracks: Táim i mo shuí, Molly na gChuach ní Chuilleanáin, Bádaí na Scadán
You may also like: SubRosa, Thragedium, The Angelic Process, Nadja
Final verdict: 7/10
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram
Label: Fiadh Productions – Bandcamp | Facebook
Fós is:
– Susan ní Cholmáin (vocals)
– Fionn Murray (everything else)
- ‘Curly-haired Molly Nee Chullinan’ ↩︎
- ‘The Herring Boats’ ↩︎
- ‘I Am Awake’ ↩︎
- A particularly notable example of sean-nós is “An Chéad Mháirt de Fhómhair” (The First Tuesday in Autumn). Originating in Ranafast, “An Chéad” was spontaneously composed by a man after learning of his son’s death by drowning. While mourning and lamenting his son on the beach, others heard his song and it resonated so deeply with the community that it became an emotional outlet for those affected by the tragedy and lives on today as a Ranafast musical tradition. ↩︎
- Sean-nós is clustered to three different regions of western Ireland, all coming in different flavors depending on local tastes and traditions. Facets like amount of ornamentation and nasality show general patterns across regions but can all be different between individuals, depending on how they wish to express themselves. Additionally, because sean-nós is so deeply personal to the individual and their respective community, songs are typically associated with their place of origin; Níl features songs from County Donegal (“Badaí na Scadán”¸ “An Mhaighdean Mhara”, “Táim i mo shuí”), County Limerick (“Slán le Máigh”), and County Ulster (“Molly na gChuach ní Chuilleanáin”). ↩︎
- ‘The Sea Maiden’ ↩︎
- ‘Farewell to the Maigue’ ↩︎
- If you’re interested in learning more about sean-nós, I strongly recommend this article by Julie Henigan in Ulster Folklife. It takes a deep dive into the style’s history and its cultural importance across Ireland. ↩︎
0 Comments