A rare Friday review resulting from my being at home today waiting for some building infrastructure to be installed. Rather than feeling trapped, I’m going to take the opportunity to get some tasks done around the house that I’ve been putting off.
Before that, though, let’s procrastinate with a music review! The sixth of the last eight of an album released in 2025, so that trend continues…
Disc 1949 is…Something Soft
Artist: M(h)aol
Year of Release: 2025
What’s up with the Cover? Kitty on a balcony! I give this cover an enthusiastic 5 out of 5, as any day where you spot a kitty on a balcony is a good day.
Also, cats are my #1 favourite thing in the “something soft” category.
How I Came To Know It: The boring way. I read a review of this album somewhere (I think Paste Magazine) and decided to check them out.
How It Stacks Up: I have two M(h)aol albums. “Something Soft” comes in at #2, making it good for the silver medal or last, depending on what kind of day you are having. I hope it is the first kind.
Ratings: 3 stars
“Loud noises!” yells weatherman Brick Tamland in a scene from Anchorman, not sure what is happening but overcome by all the cacophony. The sexist Channel 4 Newsroom would have a similarly tough time with the feminist stylings of Irish post-punk band M(h)aol, who deploy a broad swathe of jarring bangs and thumps while delivering their message.
It’s creative, thoughtful music that is sneaky smart in the way it pulls together noise and fury in a way that seems random when the wave first hits you, but that you quickly realize is done with clear intent. The better question for me wasn’t “is it good?” - it is - but rather, “did I enjoy it?”
Eventually, yes.
To tuck in a bit on this mixed reaction, it’s important to acknowledge my bias for some chord progressions and resolution in my music. I like my death metal melodic, not technical. And when it comes to post-punk, the bias spills in there as well.
So my first reaction was, admittedly, to the loud noises, and M(h)aol find and deploy a lot of them. The record is very heavy on syncopation, with drum and bass forward in the mix, crashing about like an unbolted piston in an engine room bouncing off the walls – unpredictable and dangerous. Even the guitars are mostly short repeating chords designed to add more thump.
Constance Keane takes over singing duties from departed band member Roisin Nic Ghearailt, delivering most songs in a low spoken-word rhythmic monotone. It is similar to Wet Leg but with less playfulness and more dread. In that style phrasing and timing are critical elements, and Keane (who is also the band’s drummer) hits her spots nicely.
Most of the songs fail to develop beyond their initial theme. They often get louder and more crowded with sounds but it is mostly about establishing a single musical theme, encircling that theme like a python, and squeezing it with ever-increasing intensity.
There was the ever-present threat of boredom from my melodically-biased aesthetic, but the band never lets the song go on long enough for me to get fidgety. Most are over in under three minutes.
The lyrics tag up with the musical approach, often being a phrase or two repeated over and over. Themes tend to be dark: abandonment, fear of partner violence, the death of a pet (n.b. it is a dog, despite the record’s cover, which I found both misleading and disappointing).
There is a lot of ‘tells’ here that point me to not liking this record. No melodic resolution? No narrative in the lyrics? Coming off a record full of folk and Celtic folk I was primed and ready to be unhappy.
Thing is, M(h)aol is just too good at what they do. The more I listened, the more I caught the magic of what they were doing.
Musically, the noise has focus and intent, and it drives deep in the marrow the more you listen. There are layers to it (better heard on headphones FYI) that pull you into an almost trance-like state. And because the songs are short, I could just appreciate the moment rather than getting caught up in what came next.
Despite limited lyrical content, the phrases M(h)aol choose land with maximum impact. For the dead dog, a simple and insistent repeat of “you should be here”. A gut punch for any loss of a loved one, which often rolls over and over in your mind as you grieve, just like the song.
On IBS, Keane sings/speaks, “Roll over/3 A.M. You’re Still Here/And I Ask Myself “Will You Hurt Me?” We don’t know the kind of hurt involved – physical, emotional, or just someone getting up and leaving before the dawn. We do know the universal anxiety and vulnerability of opening up to someone and wondering what’s next. And just like anxiety wonders such things over and over in a loop, so does the song.
When you do something well, you can overcome a lot. “Something Soft” was not in my musical wheelhouse. It wasn’t even on the ships I tend to sail. Rather, it was more of a ship passing by, purposefully pounding its way through the chop; a bit ungainly for my tastes, but you have to admire the sturdiness of the hull and the skill of the captain.
Best tracks: Pursuit, You Are Temporary But the Internet is Forever, IBS, 1-800-Call-Me-Back

