Album Review: Fionn Regan - The Shadow Of An Empire

It’s been almost four years since Fionn Regan released his debut album, The End Of History. Any questions about what he’s been up to in that time are answered with a single listen to its successor: he’s been growing some balls.

The End Of History was generally well received by the music press, but its whimsical, plinkety plunkety folk always felt a bit like a facsimile of a great album rather than the real thing. Regan’s soft, string-backed harmonies created moments of wonder, but the acoustic cleverness began to wear thin after a while.

There’s no chance of laying the same accusation at the door of The Shadow Of An Empire. This is an album that has contrast in spades, largely due to Regan having electrified his output, both literally and metaphorically. ‘Protection Racket’ opens proceedings like a statement of intent, all crashing cymbals and wildly jangling guitars. This song, like much of the album, sounds as though Regan has blended his Irish Wicklow mountains roots with a rich vein of American alt-rock heritage. Ryan Adams would be happy to claim ownership of many of these tracks, not least because Regan seems to have a much more dependable sense for a catchy melody.

The Shadow Of An Empire still shows many of the musical calling cards that were prevalent on The End Of History, but the clearer differences between light and dark make them far more effective. Regan retains his habit of threading lyrics laden with inference across repeated vocal refrains, but throws in changes of pace and a depth of expression that gives every song its own character; its own particular sensibilities.

None reflects this better than ‘Violent Demeanour’, which opens with acoustic picking and Regan’s melancholy, rolling vocal before switching to an on-off, piano-backed chorus. The second verse comes with soft electric guitar backing and the odd crackle of drums before the chorus is repeated with an urgent, shuffling percussion that gives it breath-taking pace. Meanwhile, Regan’s elegantly crafted lyrics hint darkly at social dislocation and trauma: "The institutions with the metal halls / Chain the mentally ill to destitute walls / The wards of state do not illuminate / The margins."

Another hangover from The End Of History is a tendency to carry trebly chord patterns on a heavier, rhythmical bass line. It’s a trick used to powerful effect on ‘Catacombs’, the verses of which are built around a stepped, dropping lower refrain and a parallel teasing, intermittent acoustic riff that raises its head between lines.

Oddly, closing track ‘The Shadow Of An Empire’, from which the album takes its name, is one of the least engaging, relying on clunking piano chords to carry its classical folk vocal. The song’s musical repetition forces attention on the lyrics, which don’t quite rise to the challenge. While there’s compelling imagery aplenty –"On the sawdust / The circus band / I heard rehearsing on the Strand / By the lovers who understand / Every note must be planned" – it’s difficult to pick out exactly what Regan’s driving at, and the song drifts a little as a consequence.

But these are minor ticks on an album that sounds like a coming of age. Regan’s throatier, grittier style thrives when combined with his old feel for a tune, making The Shadow Of An Empire more listenable than its predecessor, without losing any of its intelligence and depth.