Rising Irish outfit Adore — Lara Minchin (vocals, guitar), Lachlann Ó Fionnáin (bass, vocals) and Naoise Jordan Cavanaugh (drums) — hail from Dublin, Donegal and Galway respectively. Influenced by The Breeders, Elastica, Echobelly, The Undertones, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Sleeper, the Irish bonded over a mutual passion for melody and message, while developing a sound that pairs crunchy power chords and a driving rhythm section with incisive, thought-provoking lyrics that delve into pressing societal issues.
Since the release of their debut single, last year’s “Postcards,” the band has made the rounds of the Irish live circuit, opening for the likes of The Scratch, 86TVs, The Bug Club, Cardinals and SPRINTS. They’ve also played at Electric Picnic Festival and Whelan’s Ones To Watch 2024 showcase. Adding to a growing profile, across both Ireland the UK, the Irish trio have received coverage from the likes of So Young Magazine, DIY Magazine, Clash Magazine, The Line of Best Fit, Dork, Rough Trade and Nailler9, as well as airplay from BBC 6 Music’s Steve Lamacq and Radio X’s John Kennedy — with just a handful of singles under their collective belts.
Hot on the heels of September’s “Supermum!,” the rising trio’s latest single, the Daniel Fox-produced “Can We Talk” is a 90s alt rock/riot grrl-inspired ripper anchored around crunchy power chords, a chugging rhythm section, enormous mosh pit friendly hooks paired with Minchin’s delivery, which alternates between indignation and wry humor. For the old heads out there, this one will remind you a bit of 120 Minutes-era MTV alt rock — but with a decidedly post-punk air.
“‘Can We Talk’ revolves around a pattern of abuse where one is picked up when broken, broken down even farther and is moulded into something subservient, meek and willing to please,” Adore’s Laura Minchin explains. “There is an awareness that one doesn’t get into these situations from a good start. In my experience there has been something unhealed in me that has made me lean into control in the past.
“It begins with not being allowed to disagree with small things, until dangerous patterns of behaviour come to the front and you are so beaten down and made to feel so worthless that you feel like there is no conceivable way you can leave.
It’s sort of like a horror film, where the threat is always there; it presents with small poltergeist acts, a glass is smashed, the dog keeps barking at seemingly nothing, until the force gains more and more power as it feeds from your livelihood. It’s only when it gets genuinely frightening that you realise that the threat has always been there.”
