At once both deeply ancient and refreshingly new, Lúireach is the follow-up to Landless’ 2018 LP Bleaching Bones.

The all female folk quartet’s second LP emerges from the same Dublin scene as Lankum, Lisa O’Neill and ØXN, and indeed, you can hear the fingerprints of Lankum all over this album, from John “Spud” Murphy’s production to Cormac MacDiarmada’s instrumentation.

However, while these elements are compelling, and help build the rich tapestry that is Lúireach, it’s the female vocals that make it such an intriguing wander down the mossy garden path. Right from the get-go of ‘Newry Highwayman’, the album is sinister and hypnotic, with harmony being the weapon of choice for the band.

Instrumentation is sparse, but still masterful, from Ruth Clinton’s aching pump organ on ‘Death & The Lady’ to Méabh Meir’s shruti box on ‘Ej Husari’. There’s also a notable feminist undertone to Lúireach, with the lead single being Ewan MacColl’s 1960 song ‘Fisherman’s Wife’. Rather than focusing on the wife pining for her husband, the lyric details the intricacies of her domestic life.

Another powerful feminist anthem is ‘The Grey Selkie Of Sule Skerry’, focusing on a woman who has her child taken away by a mythical, shape -shifting Selkie. Lúireach feels like an epic Tolkien folk song – if, of course, the author had ever let women have a say in Lord Of The Rings.

Recommended song: ‘The Grey Selkie Of Sule Skerry’

8/10

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