Cardinals – Masquerade

Sometimes, a small detail can make a grand difference. Take the latest hotly tipped project from Ireland, Cardinals, who risk being lumped together with some of their contemporaries, including Fontaines D.C., Sprints, or the Murder Capital, due to perceived similarities in the early stages of their careers. The comparison has some basis, as the Cork-based quintet, who have opened for some of these bands, also stir up a potent brew of classic post-punk that flirts with grand gestures.

Cardinals’ refreshing and impressive debut album sounds raw and imperfect, striking a cheerful yet dark ambiance that embraces gothic romanticism within a distinctly Irish-sounding folk punk sound. This is largely due to the band’s secret weapon, the accordion, an instrument they seamlessly integrate into their songwriting, immediately trumping any notions of a core band setup. But The Pogues, these five are not. Packed with prickly guitars, Masquarade’s expansive arrangements bear a closer resemblance to early U2 in its portrayal of urgent, coming-of-age narratives packed with religious imagery.

Considered by the bandmates—three-fifths made up of brothers Euan and Finn Manning alongside cousin Darragh Manning—as embodying two contrasting sides, Masquerade combines Cardinals’ differing emotional states into an interconnected unit. Once “She Makes Me Real” opens with a joyous accordion lead, courtesy of specialist Finn, the album adopts a weary shuffle before building into a stomping rocker. “St. Agnes” follows with a lightness that catches the ears, the closest here to a lively sea shanty, even if lead singer Euan—his faint drawl recalling a more tender version of Iceage’s Elias Bender Rønnenfelt—sings with resigned vulnerability: “Must’ve hurt bad/she called you in tears/she said I’m a bad person.”

As the first half winds down, Cardinals’ flair for a sullen ballad reveals itself more clearly. Nowhere on the album is this better demonstrated than in the plainly titled “I Like You,” where lead guitarist Oskar Gudinovic adds a slow-paced fingerpicked arrangement set against an endearing accordion accompaniment. “You can have most of me/just don’t stand so close to me,” he passionately declares, grappling with the fleeting glory and confusion of young love.

There is an underlying sense of melancholy to Euan’s lyricism, which the band consciously matches with a sombre mood as the album progresses—a stark difference to the brighter sheen they juxtapose early on. The smoldering delivery of “Anhedonia,” one of the more punk-driven tracks here, has Euan leaning into his storytelling abilities by detailing a tragic character burdened by sin: “Then I stabbed him/I opened up his world/as it spun.” While the contrasts they play with are marked, they’re not necessarily jarring, maintaining a rhythmic pace that sounds forceful yet grounded. Even the heavier, politically charged track “The Burning of Cork,” which veers into post-hardcore territory, adds depth beyond mere anger before it fizzles in two minutes flat.

Masquerade is the type of vital debut that unspools with an unrefined beauty, attracting the opinion of listeners who might think that they're still figuring out their true sound. Whether Cardinals possess the talent to evolve past this fiercely passionate statement remains to be seen, but considering who they’ve been matched against, the band has tapped into a formula that sounds arguably more defined from the outset. Cardinals would be the first to admit that it’s a daunting first step, but it sure is exciting to hear them aim this high.

Masquerade is out now via So Young Records.