26-05-2025
Why it's time to tune into Ireland's female musicians
We present an extract from Why Not Her? A Manifesto for Culture Change, the new book by Linda Coogan Byrne.
Through a combination of hard-hitting data, personal testimony, and case studies by activist, PR specialist, and gender equity champion Linda Coogan Byrne, Why Not Her? offers a bold and unflinching examination of the systemic inequalities within the music industry — and far beyond.
Most Irish female artists' experiences of music industry and radio support are vastly different from those of their male counterparts — artists like Dermot Kennedy, Hozier, Moncrieff, Robert Grace, Gavin James, The Script, Cian Ducrot, Amble, Kingfisher, Kneecap, Snow Patrol, and Picture This, to name but a few.
The list of "breakthrough" Irish male acts feels endless — bolstered by consistent, heavy radio rotation, festival bookings, and widespread media backing.
But for Irish women in music, the path has been steeper, quieter, and relentlessly overlooked. Too often, the only route to real success has meant working ten times harder — or leaving Ireland altogether.
Artists like CMAT, Orla Gartland, RuthAnne, Bambi Thug, Biig Piig, Áine Tyrrell, Wallis Bird, and Wyvern Lingo have all pursued their careers abroad — in the UK, Berlin, Australia, and beyond — where access, airplay, and opportunities are far more abundant for women and gender-diverse artists who continue to be overlooked in Ireland.
Even The Cranberries — now icons of Irish music — famously broke America before being fully embraced at home. It's a pattern that continues today: for many Irish women, meaningful recognition only arrives once they've made noise elsewhere.
One notable exception in recent years has been Jazzy, whose breakout came through a collaboration with two male producers — Belters Only. That track, Make Me Feel Good, became a viral and chart-topping hit, making her the first Irish female artist to reach Number 1 on Spotify's Top 50 Ireland chart, and the first Irish woman to top the Irish Singles Chart in over 14 years. She then carved her own path with Giving Me, which made her the first Irish female solo artist in over two decades to hit Number 1 on the Irish Singles Chart.
She carved her own way once the door was opened — and this is what happens when women are given a chance.
Watch: Bambi Thug performs on The Late Late Show
The team and I in the Why Not Her? collective conducted a 20-year analysis of the Irish Singles Chart — and the results lay it bare:
For every female act that reaches the chart, 4.6 male acts do the same.
Male acts have seven entries for every single entry by a female act.
For each week a female act spends on the chart, a male act spends 11.5 weeks.
71.1% of Top 10 singles over the past two decades were released by Irish male artists and bands.
The scale of exclusion is staggering. Women, and especially women of colour, have been absent from mainstream success. Between 2010 and 2020, not a single Irish woman reached the top rank.
The system isn't about talent — it's about access.
Then came Irish Women in Harmony — 47 women joining forces to record a powerful rendition of Dreams by The Cranberries. Their voices didn't just break a decade-long drought; they raised vital funds for Safe Ireland, supporting women and children experiencing domestic abuse.
The single went on to reach Number 15 on the Official Irish Singles Chart and Number 1 on the Official Irish Homegrown Chart — a chart dedicated to highlighting the most popular songs by Irish artists across streaming, downloads, and sales. This feat marked the first time a female act topped the Homegrown Chart and the first time in over a decade that an Irish female act had broken into the Top 20 of the Official Irish Singles Chart.
Watch: Irish Women In Harmony perform on The Late Late Show
It took nearly 50 women coming together to reclaim a space that male artists often occupy alone. Even imagining that contrast should tell you everything.
Needless to say, the system isn't broken — it was built this way. And it's long past time to change it.
This isn't a coincidence. It's a pattern. Male artists dominate radio playlists and festival stages, leaving women to fight for scraps — or feeling isolated if they are among the tiny percentage of female headliners. And airplay, which is the lifeblood of chart success, is gate-kept in a way that excludes them. Even when women write about resilience, adversity, and triumph, their voices don't get the same platform or visibility.
Airplay Isn't merit-based. It's access-based
This is about visibility — but it's also about infrastructure. Most Irish women are still releasing music independently, without the label support or financial investment their male counterparts more often receive.
Take Orla Gartland, for example — an Irish female artist now based in London. Entirely independent, she recently won Best Song Musically and Lyrically at the Ivor Novello Awards — by herself. No label machine. No major-budget backing. Just talent, work, and vision. Her win proves what we already know: when women are given space to flourish, they deliver excellence on their own terms.
Listen: Orla Gartland talks to Oliver Callan
And yet, she has received just over 600 total radio plays across her entire catalogue in Ireland so far this year. Her peer? Take Gavin James — one of many male artists regularly championed on Irish radio. He has received over 8,000 plays in the same time period.
The contrast is staggering. The system isn't about talent — it's about access.
Yet even those with major label backing still don't find their way into heavy rotation playlists — rendering the age-old excuses radio executives continue to use both indefensible and absurd. As laid out in Why Not Her?, here's what they've actually said when confronted:
"Men make better music than women."
"We don't have the budget to be diverse."
"We don't make the rules."
"Women just moan."
"She's too old and long in the tooth to be making music."
"You need to be careful and stop stepping on people's toes in radio."
"We actually had some women on a special Friday night show back in February."
"It's the label's fault, not ours."
"People prefer to listen to male acts; they request them on air!"
These aren't thoughtful critiques. They're lazy deflections — sexist, patronising, and structurally embedded. They insult not only the intelligence and talent of Irish women artists, but the audience as well.
When Irish radio producers say, "We just play what people want," they ignore a fundamental truth: taste is shaped by exposure — and exposure is controlled. You can't love what you're not hearing.
Why Not Her? Why Not Now?
Because the next generation is not only watching.
They are listening. And they are coming.
