Strolling home from an afters in some Drumcondra flat at 7am; cloudy skies and seagulls circling, Inhaler seem like the kind of guys you were just about not-quite-cool-enough to approach all night. I mean that in a good way.

On stage in the LCR, away from home, the four-piece band emit the urban grunge of Dublin’s Gen Z arts scene. They embody the vibrancy of contemporary Ireland; politically conscious teens and twenty-somethings, stick-and-poke tattoos and rollies, the evolving notion of national pride and what ‘Irish’ looks like in 2023. Since their emergence as an up-and-coming indie group, Inhaler have transported the image of the modern Irish artistic scene to global audiences. But something’s changed since their first album; Inhaler’s sound has experienced a coming-of-age.

The band’s journey tells a story. Their rise to popularity amidst the COVID pandemic is significant. Their first album, It Won’t Always Be Like This, evokes the sense of fantasy there was for younger people then of the return to normality – to dancing, to hand-holding, to kissing strangers. Amidst the pause, we aged and, hopefully, matured.

The evolution of Inhaler from bold newcomers to refined musicians, well established in the Irish and global indie scene, mirrors the internal growth of a generation. If they can’t be written about without reference to U2, it should be acknowledged that Inhaler voice a rational social angst vibrating under the natural joy of young adulthood the way U2 preached Gen X Geldofian idealist sentiment in the eighties. The U2 comparison, ignoring the well-documented direct relation, is apt as Inhaler’s sound draws upon and adds to Ireland’s loud presence in the history of rock music.

Prior to their performance in Norwich, the band released Cuts & Bruises, their second studio album. They played a mixed set of the new stuff and crowd favourites from the first album, such as My Honest Face and Cheer Up Baby. While it could be said that there is something smoother about the sophomore album, there is some stardust sound that transcends both and is carried particularly in Elijah Hewson’s vocals which evokes a special Irish desperation even in an upbeat composition, evident in If You’re Gonna Break My Heart.

An urban caoineadh, Inhaler create joyful and idealistic scenes and spaces which are inhabited by the sound of longing unique to youth; being so happy to be alive you can only rip your throat out of your neck to say it. Their music paints the mess of twenty-something Dublin nightlife, smeared lipstick and a spice-box, yet this disorganised beauty is evoked alongside their sleek musicality, most realised in Josh Jenkinson’s distinctive guitar.

Live, they are practically flawless; tight, cohesive, and concentrated. The work ethic apparent in Inhaler’s live performance iterates their belonging at their current level of success.

As for persona, the four are somewhat reserved, which adds to their cool rather than redacts from it; they seem lost in the music rather than holding back, focused and not at all pandering. Hewson’s crowd engagement seemed to get slightly lost in translation between accents, which is only natural abroad, but this didn’t take away from the expressions of love hurled him by audience voices.

One of Ireland’s most exciting cultural exports today, Inhaler are among Paul Mescal and Martin McDonagh in the current green viral craze.

Image: Unsplash