Creative weirdos Dirty Marmalade – struggling to find meaning in rural Ireland release their debut album ‘Hills of Breifne’ today, you can now read our review here

Right off the bat I’m going to be completely honest here: there’s absolutely no neat way to sum up Hills of Breifne. Cavan duo Dirty Marmalade (aka Lil’ Phynott & Mildly Fool!sh) aren’t interested in playing it safe, and their debut album makes that perfectly clear from the opening track. It’s chaotic, emotional and wildly, wildly unpredictable. It’s also completely captivating. Drawing on rural dysfunction, substance-fuelled disillusionment, and the kind of messy, real-life moments most people would rather leave off-record, this is a project that doesn’t just wear its heart on its sleeve, it smears it across your windscreen and leaves you a voice note about it.

The album kicks off with “Why Else,” a fiery opener that blends biting lyrics and blistering drums with a thick Cavan accent that sets the tone immediately. There’s attitude, sure, but also a rawness bubbling underneath. Title track “Hills of Breifne” is a more laid-back, almost hypnotic groove that captures that tension between loyalty and resentment, all while referencing biblical angels and small-town memory loss. By the time you hit “Waster” and its grungy spirals of spoken word and distortion, you realise you’re not just listening to any old copy and paste album, you’re deep in a rabbit hole with no idea what’s coming next.

Tracks like “XIX:XI” and “Big Giant Jelly Baby” take things to a new level of intensity. The former is a nearly 6-minute gut-punch that blends voice notes, blunt takedowns, and an intro beat that sounds like early-2000s Eminem. The latter is full-blown emotional carnage delivered through snarling guitars and enough swearing to make your nan pass out. And yet, amidst the chaos, there’s something undeniably human in tracks like “Runs in My Blood” and “Jampa Ling” self-aware reflections that ground the madness in something real.

Dirty Marmalade aren’t here to be polished or palatable. They’re documenting the weird, the sad, the furious, and the hilarious bits of rural Irish life that usually get swept under the rug. Between the DIY audio samples, unpredictable production swings, and strangely poetic lyricism, Hills of Breifne feels like stumbling across a lost diary albeit half-burnt and covered in petrol.

In short, it’s proudly unhinged, emotionally messy, and creatively free in a way that’s genuinely refreshing. Dirty Marmalade aren’t for everyone, but if you’ve ever felt like a bit of an outsider yourself, you’ll find a kindred spirit somewhere in these hills.

‘Hills of Breifne’ comes flying in with a 7.5 out 0f 10

LISTEN TO HILLS OF BREIFNE

Reviewer – Alan Robinson @alan_robinson_photography