CYRM by ØXN

For some listeners, folk music is considered to be a more rustic, acoustic guitar-driven version of indie rock, maybe with more flannel and well-groomed beards. But this version of folk music is extremely limited, and doesn’t leave much room for the complex history this genre represents. And the history of folk music doesn’t begin in the 60s with Dylan, or in the 40s with Guthrie. It goes back further, perhaps before written language even existed. And on the new record CYRM by ØXN, centuries-old Celtic folk music is woven together with contemporary compositions and steeped in an ominous atmosphere to deliver one of the most poignant albums of the year. 

Opening with an acapella introduction reminiscent of sean-nós technique, the first track “Cruel Mother” sets a tragic mood that looms over the rest of the album. This murder ballad may have been written hundreds of years ago, but the story of children born out of wedlock, their unfortunate demise, and their mother’s guilt, reaches across temporal boundaries. This leads into another traditional folk song, “The Trees They Do Grow High”, the vocalists lamenting the fatal ending of an arranged marriage, backed by minor-key piano and sorrowful strings. These themes continue throughout the record, which also features covers of contemporary Irish folk music like “The Wife of Michael Cleary”, a lush rendition reflecting on the true story of a woman burned to death by her husband who suspects her of being a changeling.

Sonically, this record is closer akin to dark drone, post-rock, and atmospheric black metal than it is Irish folk music. Yet by taking a heavier and more experimental approach, ØXN breathes new life into these folk ballads. Haunting, sorrowful, and rooted in tradition, CYRM exhumes these forgotten songs and presents them in a way that feels wholly modern yet wholly authentic.