It has been another quietly remarkable year for Irish soul and blues – one defined not by pastiche but by ambition and candour. Across these records, artists have built upon the foundations of the past to reanimate tradition and create a sound that is entirely their own. From smoky, old-school rhythms to lo-fi dreamscapes and cultural synthesis, these artists demonstrate a masterful command of atmosphere and identity. Here are five records that reaffirm the vital role of these genres in contemporary Irish music.
Katharine Timoney — All This Time
There is a confidence and freedom to All This Time that feels increasingly rare in an era of “sad-girl music”. Throughout the EP, Katharine Timoney allows her silky vocals and acclaimed ensemble to carry the emotional narrative. The second track, It Won’t Always Be This Way, is arguably the standout Irish soul song of the year. In an age dominated by neo-soul, it offers a glorious return to a driving, old-school rhythm, complete with a psychedelic edge reminiscent of the best modern groups. Kinnegar Shore is a tribute to her grandmother, who was a formative musical inspiration. Its uneasy atmosphere serves as a poignant expression of grief.
Elsewhere, the title track and Ruminate are energetic, the former smoothly straddling the line between funk and soul. The EP’s pacing is deftly handled; some tracks prioritise space and reflection while others lean into a darker, more urgent energy. While the Belfast woman’s influences – especially Amy Winehouse – are evident, they never eclipse her own singular style. All This Time is a debut statement that hints at a vast creative range.
Muireann Bradley — Rose Dogs
Muireann Bradley has managed to avoid the pitfalls of a simple tribute act. Instead, she inhabits blues standards with natural authority while introducing her own compelling compositions. To sound so comfortable and natural in the world of these masters at just nineteen is extraordinary. Rose Dogs pairs assured interpretations – such as Blaze Foley’s Clay Pigeons, and Jackson Browne’s These Days – with a gift for ushering American Primitive guitar traditions into the modern age. Her take on “Sligo River Blues”, a nod to John Fahey, is an emotional standout.
With the lively, country-tinged “No Name Blues”, Bradley also reveals herself as a formidable songwriter. Oscillating between restraint and grit with each track, her music remains evocative despite its minimalistic style. It is no exaggeration that the Donegal woman’s fingerpicking already invites comparison to the American masters. Rose Dogs handles blues heritage with both care and confidence, proving that the genre remains as vibrant as ever.
Negro Impacto — TV DREAMS
Since forming after a chance encounter in 2021, Negro Impacto have established themselves as the royalty of Irish neo-soul. The Dundalk duo’s blend of silky R&B, soul, and understated funk captures a dreamy stasis – crafting songs about waiting, repetition, and an imagined elsewhere. Their music evokes hazy summer evenings and bright, sunny mornings.
Tracks like NWANNE – written in Igbo – unfold slowly, built on warmth. 1800 pairs a summery psychedelic rhythm with lyrical ennui, while FANGIRL drifts between sensuality and elation. The understated BLUE incorporates a spoken-word reflection by Emma Dabiri on the use of gorm to refer to Black people in Irish, folding cultural history into the record. There is a fluid, cinematic quality to TV DREAMS, yet its lo-fi soundscape remains intimate rather than expansive. Throughout the EP, their ambient, experimental approach recalls Frank Ocean and Anderson .Paak. With their potent blend of groovy soul and sonic warmth, Negro Impacto stand out as a defining voice in the Irish soul scene.
Qbanaa — Elisa
Elisa is a record that straddles two places close to Qbanaa’s heart. Named after her Cuban nickname, this EP is shaped profoundly by distance. Its songs were written across a seven-year separation from Cuba before being partially recorded there and completed in Dublin. This transatlantic process gives the music a unique texture rarely attempted by Irish musicians: Latin rhythms alongside a soulful groove. Thematically, Elisa is unflinchingly honest, confronting addiction, family troubles, and toxic relationships with steady maturity.
The ethereal Demons in the Liffey describes her complex and sometimes strained love for her mother while living away in London. 23.Abuelo features a recording of her grandfather in Cienfuegos, Cuba – her musical inspiration who now suffers from dementia. By including multiple versions of catchy yet melancholy tracks like Best Time – presented as both a Cuban draft and an Irish revision – Qbanaa underscores the EP’s central theme: identity as something complex and evolving. Elisa achieves a rare balance between musical tenderness and exacting subject matter.
Tolü Makay — People Still Cry in Summer
People Still Cry in Summer is a tale of three parts: happiness, sadness, and the nuanced space in between. The EP opens and closes on a confident note reminiscent of Makay’s earlier work – I Am is bold and empowering, while Become the Fire is upbeat and energetic. Tracks like Highnote and Trust begin more gently – the former chilled and the latter sensual – before building toward impactful codas. Highnote is particularly striking, incorporating neo-soul textures, a guitar solo, and a spine-tingling finale. This tender, gospel-tinged influence carries into Lonely, too.
Perhaps the highlight of the EP, however, is a cover of Nina Simone’s Blackbird. Featuring a spoken-word opening about Makay’s identity crisis as a Black Irish woman, the track is driven by brooding African-inspired percussion that makes for a listening experience both thrilling and painful. It is the record’s only outright pessimistic moment, addressing the frustrating barriers of the Black experience. Developed over several years from fragments of voice notes and poems, the record acts as a synopsis of life experiences. Throughout, Makay’s voice remains rich, controlled, and vulnerable. The EP stays true to its title, exploring the friction between the brightness of summer and the shadows of personal healing. People Still Cry in Summer is an unflinching and sobering exploration of adversity.
