POST-BURNOUT
For years now, the Belfast-based singer-songwriter Gareth Dunlop’s star has been rising. From being featured on the soundtracks of major Hollywood films and television series, supporting the likes of Van Morrison, Imelda May, Snow Patrol, and Jeff Beck, and headlining major venues across Ireland, the UK and Europe.
In June, Gareth released his latest record, Welcome To The House Of I Don’t Know, on the Belfast-based indie label Zenith Café. The album went on to be shortlisted for Album of the Year at the Northern Ireland Music Prize.
Gareth answered some questions that Post-Burnout sent him about the nomination, working with Zenith Café, the content on the albums, his songwriting, his 2024, and much more.
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Hi, Gareth! The first question I was going to ask was, now that 2024 is almost done, how has the year been for you, looking back?
It’s been a crazy year… busy, challenging and rewarding. The year kicked off with the first single released from the new album and kind of snowballed after that. More singles, videos, interviews, showcases, tours, and, ultimately, the album release. A lot of it feels like a blur looking back, but in a good way, if that makes sense.
I’ve heard you talk about how some of your early success came from being featured on the soundtrack for popular television shows, which you were often amazed to hear you got on. How many of the opportunities in your career do you feel have been arbitrary and beyond your control, compared to what was at your command?
There’s been a lot of “right time, right place” in my career; some gambles that paid off and a good few that didn’t. I can draw lines back to so many people that took a chance on me and my music, and the amazing things those relationships led to. The only things I really feel in control of is what I write on the page, what I do in the studio, and how I put those things over on stage. Everything else feels like pinballs bouncing off chances that I have to just be ready for.
Relating to that last question (and this could just be my interpretation), it seems like the entropy of life is a theme that has been coming up in your recent output. As a personal songwriter, is it cyclical, as in, your art affords you opportunities and those opportunities afford you material to write about?
I’ve never thought about it like that, but in a lot of ways, there’s a lot of truth there. I find myself writing about the times, places, and people I miss while I’m away from home, and music is the thing that takes me away. I think I feel emotions, connections, needs, and wants at their strongest when I’m gone. I reckon that’s true for most people.
I feel that your latest album, Welcome To The House Of I Don’t Know, is quite optimistic. You’ve talked about how the album was about you trying to find answers about yourself and your past, and there seems to be a theme of accepting the unpredictability of life and being satiated with not having the answers. Is that a fair read, and, if so, do you think it runs counter to people looking to artists and creatives to give them coherence and answers to life?
That’s definitely a fair read. I went into it with more questions than answers for sure…
I think we’re all working through the same stuff in life and my own belief is that the answers change from time to time. The music I’ve always felt most connected to prompts me to ask questions of myself. I’ve never been able to connect with music or even people that say they have the answers. For me, listening to music that does that feels like getting advice I didn’t ask for.
The music on House continues the new direction we first heard on your previous album, Animal. Do you feel the two are companion pieces in any way? Not just musically, but thematically, this album almost seems to respond to some of the things you were speaking of in Animal. For example, on Animal, you appear to be in an early stage of recognising patterns in your relationship with the past and nostalgia. On House, you seem to have a fuller grasp of those relationships, as heard on tracks like “Back Yard” and “Small Talk,” which may be some of your most personal tracks to date.
The two feel different to me musically for a few reasons. I made the Animal album on my own, pretty much in solitude. It took me way too long and also took a lot of experimenting to find what I was hearing in my head. I wanted to approach the new album completely differently, with a group of friends all in the same room together making noise, to try and lock into what felt good in the moment. There are years between some of the Animal songs and the songs on the new record. Looking back, I think my writing was a bit more ambiguous and maybe a bit guarded on some of the Animal songs. I definitely wanted to try and hold the mirror a bit closer on this record.
On the optimism of the record, I think “Back Yard” is an example of examining the hardships in your life and gleaning silver linings and “Small Talk” was a realistic and holistic examination of you as a person. Were these difficult tracks to pen?
“Back Yard” was difficult because I felt like I had so much I wanted to get into the song. I probably threw away four times as many verses as I ended up keeping. I had lists and lists of objects, smells, sights and sounds that I wanted to almost personify. Getting the list down to what felt like the most potent to me was tough. I got some great advice years ago from a writer friend of mine who told me, “Try at least once a month to write something like no one will ever hear it.” “Small Talk” started as one of those monthly experiments. Easy to chat about your own hang-ups when you think no one else is ever gonna hear it.
In a way, do you feel that not dealing with negative aspects of life in your art would devalue the positive aspects of life that you write about, as if everything is positive, nothing is?
I’m not sure, or at least I haven’t thought about it like that before. No one’s life has ever been “All good all of the time,” and, in a lot of ways, I don’t think it should be. I’ve always felt like the good days are the reward for the tough days. Both are worthy of unpacking and thinking about.
Do you find each project you make to be a deliberate continuation of what came prior, or is any continuity between projects simply the result of you being the connecting tissue?
I used to struggle with this. I’ve always been attracted to so many different styles and genres of music. When I started releasing stuff, the styles between singles, EPs, and albums would constantly change. I’d take a deep dive into Americana and surround myself with those kinds of records, and that would become the playground for a while. Then it would be ‘60s and ‘70s soul music, then rock, then pop, etc., etc. I’ve been so lucky that every publisher and record label I’ve ever worked with has not only given me the space to explore but really encouraged it. The first departure into synth land was probably on the Born Uncool EP back in 2020. I remember chatting with my publisher at the time, and I was feeling a bit like, “Is this way too left to be turning?” She told me to keep going left and that she’d let me know if it ever got to a point where she couldn’t hear “me” in the music. I’ve been trying to go left ever since, and she still hears everything before it goes out.
Do you feel that your current record is a good starting point for people looking to get into your music, or do you think listeners would have to have some rapport with you as an artist first to appreciate it fully?
I’m not sure. I think the current record is a pretty good glance at where I’m at, musically, and where I’m at in life. The older EPs and records are very much where I’ve been. If I was making someone a playlist who hadn’t heard my stuff before, I think I’d start with this record, then immediately go back to the beginning.
Your album was shortlisted for Album of the Year at the Northern Ireland Music Prize. What did that mean to you?
It felt amazing to have the album recognised like that. So much of my career has been spent making music in studios far away from home. I made this record with my friends half a mile from my house here in Belfast. It was a lovely thing to see it up there nominated alongside other Northern Irish records.
Welcome To The House Of I Don’t Know was your second consecutive release with the Belfast-based label, Zenith Cafe. What is it about Zenith Cafe that, first, made you want to sign with them and, second, made you want to stay with them?
First and foremost, they have a deep love and enormous passion for music. They encourage and support all of their artists to make the art that they want to make. It’s an artist-led label where the artists’ voices are always at the table when ideas and decisions are being made. I couldn’t have made this record without the freedom they gave me to do it.
Finally, is there anything you would like to add, and what are your plans for 2025?
My hope for 2025 is to get out on stage as much as possible, to get the album in front of as many people as I can, and try out some new songs that have been brewing. I think I’ve broken ground on the next project. I can see some studio days in the near future too.
Gareth Dunlop’s latest album, Welcome To The House Of I Don’t Know, is out now to stream and purchase. You can find Gareth’s music, live dates, social media accounts and more on his website.
Aaron Kavanagh is the Founder and Editor-in-Chief of Post-Burnout. His writing can also be found in the Irish Daily Star, Buzz.ie, Totally Dublin, The GOO, Headstuff, New Noise Magazine, XS Noize, DSCVRD and more.