Album Review: The Devlins, All The Days

Back in the mid-’90s, The Devlins were one of the hottest tickets in Irish rock. Their 1993 debut, Drift, clocked up four stars in Rolling Stone; they had tracks on TV’s hottest soundtracks (Six Feet Under, The Sopranos); and in Colin Devlin, they had a frontman who combined model good looks with serious singing talent.

Three decades later, the band are back together, comprised of the older (but still handsome) Colin, his brother Peter on bass, drummer Guy Rickarby and guitarist Mark Murphy, along with super-producer Rob Kirwan (PJ Harvey, Hozier) on production duties. The result is a superbly atmospheric return to form.

Older and wiser they may be, but there was always something mature about The Devlins at their best, as if they knew something more than their sweatier contemporaries. Here again, they create the kind of cinematic soundscapes that play out like mini-dramas, packing a whole gamut of emotions into four minutes, without ever seeming to break sweat, from the earworm title track to the catchy ‘Behind The Sun’, whose lyrics tip their cap to Echo and the Bunnymen, Kraftwerk and Simple Minds.

The pace never really gets faster than a moderate jog (maybe it’s an age thing), on tracks like the yearningly hypnotic ‘Mine’, which grows more anthemic with each listen, the beautiful ‘The Frozen River’, and the ululating waves of ‘Show Me Tomorrow’. Behind the lush melodies, however, there’s a sadness at the heart of songs like ‘Dark Star’, ‘Future Ghost’ and ‘The Meadow’, the latter exuding biblical undertones with its “Deliver us from evil” coda.

All The Days is one of those albums that gets better with every listen, working its subtle charms until you’re humming it in the shower.

8/10