Hozier – Unreal Unearth

Soul | Folk

89%

 

Hozier’s music has always contained many different facets, far more than he is often given credit for. Scores of lazy critics, even all these years later, have dismissed him as “that guy that sang Take Me To Church”, when despite its time in the spotlight it was far from the best song on his debut album. (Hell, it wasn’t even the best song on the Take Me To Church EP!). Even among his most diehard fans, he’s been adorned with the image of this dark and beautiful fae creature, singing heartrending ballads about rotting corpses in a bog, before disappearing into the mossy woods till the next album cycle. Intentions aside, both of these perspectives paint a very reductive picture of his artistry. 

If we’re concocting a Hozier album, then both are important pieces – big hits that positively hum with power and gravitas, and soft Earthy folk songs that would sound at home playing in some ancient forest – but they aren’t the whole picture. Rhythm & Blues practically runs through the man’s veins, so a good Hozier album certainly needs to showcase plenty of his soulful side. Likewise he’s always been an artist outspoken about causes close to his heart, so an album that doesn’t take the time to speak out against injustice, or champion others who do, is no true Hozier album. He’s a well-read fella, so expect plenty of nods to classic literature for the most attentive listeners, but you also hear those same influences in his own writing. Hozier has got to be one of the most poetic lyricists around at the moment, and you hear that best when he speaks about love. He describes romance like some primordial force of nature, and lust and sexuality as something akin to an act of worship towards a euphoric nirvana. 

Unreal Unearth mostly ticks all the boxes we’d hope for from this blueprint. ‘Eat Your Young’ is the kind of soulful and defiant number we’ve come to expect, in the same vein as ‘Nina Cried Power’, that offers an elegant takedown of capitalism and corporate greed draining the world dry from underneath the generation set to inherit it. We hear more of his impassioned social commentary on ‘Butchered Tongue’s scathing critique of colonialism and lost culture, and hear some of his most soulful work yet on the gospel inspired ‘All Things End’. The delightful double-whammy of ‘Francesca’ and ‘I, Carrion (Icarian)’ both beautifully combine Hozier’s romanticism and his classical literary influences. The former about a love so strong that even the fiercest storms of hell can’t tear it asunder (“My life was a storm since I was born, How could I fear any hurricane?“), while the latter compares Icarus’ euphoric flight and tragic fall with a love that feels so all-consuming that you remain blind to the coming heartbreak. 

But growing as an artist requires more than merely ticking boxes, it calls for shaking up existing formulas and adding something new into the equation. Not necessarily an easy prospect when your sound and songwriting already have a lot going on. New changes and additions could well fit perfectly amongst the existing fare, and perhaps even elevate the art around them to new heights. Equally they could upset a delicate balance, shifting focus towards one style or approach so much that another may fall by the wayside entirely. To one degree or another I think both cases are present in this new record.

By far the most welcome and notable addition to Unreal Unearth is the crispness and clarity of its production. A handful of tracks on his first two records ended up feeling like filler mainly because their potential was hampered by such murky production. It was that frustrating feeling of climbing a mountain with the hope of admiring the view, only for the valley below to be swallowed in fog. The difference on this new record is astonishing, like night and day. ‘De Selby (Part 2)’ feels like it takes full advantage of the change by cramming in as many little nuances as possible, from its stunning bass groove and expressive drum work, to its subtle electronics, elegant strings and understated backing vocals. The perfect introduction to get me hyped for whatever little details the rest of the album had waiting for me to discover. The production glow-up also feels perfectly timed to squeeze as much life as possible from the new and expanded sounds explored here. ‘Francesca’ delves deeper into alt rock territory than ever before with the defiant overdriven guitar in its chorus, while charming duet ‘Damage Gets Done’ with Brandi Carlile adds the hum and shimmer of synths into the mix in a very tasteful fashion. 

The other major change implemented on this record is the sense of drive and cohesion offered by its central theme. Unreal Unearth is Hozier’s first concept album, as well as his first break-up album, one that broadly equates the pain of a heartbreak with the descent through the nine circles of hell as described in Dante’s Inferno. As any great concept album should aspire to do, it doesn’t overburden the listener with allegories and required reading. A surface level engagement with it is just as valid and rewarding as with any great album you’ll hear this year, but for those that choose to dig a little deeper the added context at times really elevates some of the songs.

The jaunty folk of ‘Anything But’, with its hints of Paul Simon’s Graceland, presents itself as a simple love song, but knowing that it represents the circle of Fraud and digging into the lyrics (“If I was a rip tide I wouldn’t take you out” and “If I was a stampede you wouldn’t get a kick“) it instead plays as a cheekily artful “fuck you”. The circle of Treachery is described as an icy prison, which lends the cold sparse arrangement of ‘Unknown/Nth’ extra weight and meaning, while the admittance that ‘All Things End’ interprets Heresy as turning your back on the love you once believed in. Even if you didn’t know that album closer ‘First Light’ was made to depict an ascent back to the world out of the deepest depths, it makes its point known in every last note. Celestial and cinematic, towering and triumphant, it’s one of Hozier’s most impressive feats of artistry to date. 

However, the cohesive nature of the album can feel like a double edged sword. While it’s his most consistent record, one greater than the sum of its parts, I don’t think any track manages to hit the heights reached by the fan favourites from his first two records. While Unreal Unearth is Hozier’s best album, I think its his weakest set of songs. It sacrifices some accessibility for its ambition. When I inevitably find myself casually craving some of his music, I struggle to envision me choosing one of these tracks more than say ‘From Eden’ or ‘Almost (Sweet Music)’. That being said, while those first two records had their share of filler, every track here feels like an essential piece of a grander picture.