Hilary Woods – Night CRIÚ

Over the last decade, Irish polymath Hilary Woods has established herself as a serious multimedia artist with an impressively varied body of work. She has proven herself as a film-maker, a writer, and a musician, equally adept at producing ambient soundscapes and more traditional vocal compositions. She also has a background in ballet and traditional indie music, having played bass with JJ72, a once hotly-tipped Dublin band from around the turn of the century.

But to place any great emphasis on such a youthful association would be grossly unfair—not quite the same as describing Scott Walker as that bloke from the Walker Brothers, but in the same sphere. There is simply no comparison to be made between JJ72’s unremarkable early 2000s oeuvre and a work of such ethereal beauty. On Night CRIÚ, Woods is simply operating on a different plane.

Night CRIÚ serves as an easier introduction to her solo work than 2023’s foreboding instrumental album, Acts of Light. While not entirely joyous or conventional—album opener “Voce,” for example, is built around a droning cello and features a spooky children’s choir—these sparse compositions more closely resemble traditional song forms, and Woods’s voice is a vital ingredient in its success.

“Endgames,” with its purposeful beat, swirling instrumentation, and ghostly vocal,  manages to be simultaneously soothing and sinister. Interspersed with short sonic jerks, it resembles a hypnagogic hallucination, as the sensation of warm, comforting sleep is interrupted by a shocking sensation of falling. ‘Hypnagogic’ is a term regularly employed in music criticism, but I’ve rarely heard the phenomenon rendered as accurately as it is here.

The laid-back back “Taper” is as close as Night CRIÚ comes to a ‘single,’ although I don’t expect to hear it on the radio anytime soon. Distant brass notes and that haunting choir again propel its gentle, folk-inspired melody along slowly, steadily, and quite beautifully. The delicate “Faults” is another standout, its careful shuffling rhythm punctuated with brass flourishes and capped off by a soaring vocal from Woods.

With Night CRIÚ, it feels like Woods has found the sweet spot between her two contrasting musical personas—the avant-garde drone architect and the cerebral dream-pop minimalist—to craft a majestic record of solemn beauty. Not only does Night CRIÚ sound unlike anything else in 2025, it also stands proudly alongside the year’s very best work.

Night CRIÚ is out now via Sacred Bones