3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Independent
Folk trio who became a viral sensation with expats deliver simple debut that gets under the skin
Both bands have grown their fan-bases so quickly thanks to the likes of TikTok that it will have come as a surprise to many that each are set to play headline shows at Dublin's 3Arena later this year. There are many, long-established household name acts here who will never be big enough to do that.
Amble, a trio from Leitrim, Longford and Sligo, got together in Dublin in 2022 and found they had an easy rapport, especially when it comes to penning highly accessible, instantly hummable folk songs.
Digital natives, teachers Robbie Cunningham and Ross McNerney and data scientist Oisín McCaffrey didn't need a marketeer to tell them about the power of social media. Soon, their songs were finding favour on TikTok, in particular, with one track, Lonely Island, favoured by Irish expats making videos about what they missed back home. Social media drove interest and they soon signed with Warner Music.
Debut album Reverie is a likeable affair, stuffed with songs about love and belonging and the joys of being young. These aren't tracks that challenge the listener — such as those from Irish folk's leading lights Lankum — but they do get under the skin, easily, and it would take a churlish critic indeed not to appreciate the craft that's at play here.
The songs are deceptively simple, mostly built around guitars and a mandolin and the vocals of Cunningham and McCaffrey, but it's easy to see why they work in the big arenas they now find themselves in. They toured with Hozier earlier this year.
The bright, lovely Marlay Park celebrates new love with lyrics about summertime in Stephen's Green and a happy couple singing the Chili Peppers' Dani California 'walking down to Marlay Park'.
Even songs with more sombre lyrical content, such as Ode to John, have a pleasing directness to them. 'The bundle in your arms I know/ It weighs the world… The moon can't face the sight/ Of our child alone.'
Folk purists might argue that much of this album is more pop than folk, more redolent of the likes of the Coronas, for instance, than the sort of troubadours who cut their teeth in Dublin's Cobblestone. But a number of songs, including the quietly lovely title track and the more spirited Little White Chapel, underline their folk credentials.
Rarely has a band's name been more suitable for the music they make. Reverie won't turn anyone's world on their head, but sometimes an amble through a well-made, sincere album is a pleasure in these fraught times.
