Altar

The beauty pitched against distortion, a particular intimacy found within the grandeur. With Altar, their second album following quickly on from 2024’s acclaimed Madra, the Galway-born trio lean into that tension more than ever. This time they’re steeped in longing for home, indeed for belonging any place, but it refuses to wallow. Instead, it pushes NewDad’s dream-pop foundations into bolder, pop-leaning territory without losing the emotional sting that makes their music so magnetic.

The backdrop is clear. Four years ago, frontwoman Julie Dawson, guitarist Sean O’Dowd and drummer Fiachra Parslow uprooted their lives in Ireland and relocated to London. The move opened doors, leading to critical acclaim, Robert Smith’s co-sign, world tours, but created fractures that run through Altar. It’s an album about sacrifice, survival, and that messy balance of chasing your dream while wondering if you’ve left too much behind.

Opener “Other Side” sets the tone with crystalline guitars and a creeping build that bursts into shimmering unease. Dawson sings of wanting to be “anywhere but here,” a line that sounds less like wanderlust and just plain exhausted as she pines for home. The music mirrors her mood, half lullaby, half thundercloud and it’s followed by the stadium sound of “Heavyweight” reminding you how easily NewDad can make fragility sound huge, even as they’re pulling apart the “politics” of the industry with guitar lines sharp enough to maim.

When we arrive at “Pretty” we’re hit with the joyous melodies that stood out on Madra and gives the band their more accessible edge. Not that it’s exclusive to these tracks, only more prominent. Then there’s “Roobosh” a wild, furious standout. All rumbling bass and sudden yells, it’s Dawson at her breaking point, finally saying what’s been swallowed for too long. When she lets loose, it feels like the air being sucked out of the record, then slammed back in with full force.”Misery” spirals into something darker and more surreal, borrowing its haunted edges from Dante’s Inferno. Whispering with warped tones and alarm-bell percussion it creates a claustrophobic whirlpool, being trapped inside your own looping thoughts. “Sinking Kind of Feeling” feels equally adrift, woozy and untethered in its desperate searching.

The production, helmed by rising talent Shrink (Sam

Breathwick) alongside co-writer Justin Parker, is tighter and brighter

than anything NewDad have released before. Altar isn’t afraid

to polish the edges. Choruses hit harder, drums land sharper, and

guitars are sculpted rather than swallowed in reverb. It’s still hazy

but with a more defined pop core. That said, the grit remains: when the

bass growls or the distortion spikes, it feels purposeful, not

indulgent.

Subject wise, if Altar was only about yearning for

Galway, it might risk monotony. Instead, they widen their lens, and

while ”Puzzle” and “Everything I Wanted” tread water slightly,

pleasantly enough but without fireworks, nestled between them is

“Entertainer.” This banger bristles with quiet anger, confronting the

grind of performing joy for others while feeling hollow. exploring the

pressures of the music industry and the expectations placed on women

within it too.

The homesickness refocuses on “Mr Cold Embrace”, an

acoustic-led ballad that swells with strings and quiet despair. It’s the

kind of track that could collapse under its own weight, but the band

keep it stripped enough to sting. They close out the album reflecting on

life’s highs and lows firstly on the simply stunning “Vertigo” and the

lighter, bouncier “Something Broken” – tying the record together with

surprising hope. Dawson pleads not to escape, but to finally feel at

home in her present, to laugh harder, to shake off any torment. After an

album full of longing, it’s a striking pivot, not complete resolution,

but a gesture toward it and a quiet victory.

NewDad are so assured in their sound while grappling with

all this uncertainty. Their growth is obvious: the songwriting is more

versatile and the dynamics more daring, the emotional range broader. Altar

makes the case that they’re no longer just an exciting new act, but one

of Ireland’s most vital exports in a generation brimming with them.