I will mince no words–I have been absolutely obsessed with Hozier ever since first discovering his voice and songwriting in the deepest days of lockdown back in 2020. I make no claim to be any sort of professional in the field of critiquing albums–I listen to what I like, and I generally pick music based on whether it sounds cool and if the lyrics are meaningful. That said–don’t take this too seriously–but please do listen to Hozier’s Unreal Unearth!
Upon first listen of Hozier’s newest album, I had no trouble recognizing its basis as a concept album surrounding Dante’s Divine Comedy–while the interpretation of each song is up to the listener, there is no mistaking the heavy themes of sin, pain, and paradise. Take the intensely lustful “Francesca,” which has no qualms about its desire for all the speaker craved the feeling of, or the reckoning of reckless greed carved out in “Damage Gets Done.” Unshockingly, Hozier himself has confirmed this notion directly–the entirety of the album is loosely–though unmistakably–based on Dante’s epic.
Like all of Hozier’s music, the tendency to find high intensity and emotion and calmer (but clear and by no means reserved) contrast, sometimes even within the same song, makes it easy to focus in. Whether listening to the lyrics or not, Hozier’s voice and choice of instrumentals are incredibly easy to listen to, though the variety within them is such that they are in no way background music. Unreal Unearth is no exception. While it does boast a smoother, more R&B vibe than its predecessors, there is no putting this one on and tuning out. Calm intensity (as paradoxical as that may be) flows through the softer tracks, while the more grandiose additions puncture through the tracklist in a manner shattering any possible inkling of monotony. Somewhat unique to this album over previous works, too, are heavily syncopated, rhythm-heavy tracks such as “Anything But” and “De Selby (Part 2).”
Listening to any Hozier album without an intense deep dive into the lyrics would be a mistake in itself, but going without a solid listen to Unreal Unearth’s lines would be grave indeed. The balance between adhering to the concept behind it–the aforementioned Divine Comedy, and giving each individual song its own unique staying power is something Hozier managed to achieve with great success. There is far too much to say about each track to fit into a review this size, but make no mistake–each track connects and flows through each other in a way where the need to continue listening goes without saying. Each track, in addition to being grandiose, manages to find room to garner personal meaning–despite directly referencing the Divine Comedy’s Francesca Da Rimini, “Francesca” is a track I have found to hit personally close to home, and it is far from the only one in which connection has room to thrive. Lyrically and sonically, this is some of Hozier’s best work–whether previously a fan or not, the sheer passion of this album is, well… unreal, and by all means worth unearthing.