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A timeless airy debut filled with traditional folky fruits, Chaos For The Fly is Grian’s floating thought bubble of introspection.

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Rare moments of respite, retrospection and an awful lot of reading were the things that ultimately urged Grian on to make this record – in what is his first as a solo man taking a dive away from the usual post-punk modernism of Fontaines D.C. Of course, do not be fooled. This is not the same trench coat donny we see strutting his neck as he whips into a Dogrel frenzy. No, no, no. It’s not even hitting more murky magic of Skinty Fia either, but rather a different dose completely. This is Mr Chatten at his most tender, his most introspective.

This time, sees Grian enter a completely different headspace as he breathes and breathes. Inhale, exhale. A respiratory ail from the chokehold of snarly, sweaty depths of punk, it may not be equally as exciting but it’s equally adventurous, with a lot more to say and give.

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Chaos for the Fly carries a lighter load in weight with strings and synths becoming the go-tos for colour.

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It’s a side most surely welcomed amongst the bold and brash of his usual 9-5, it’s almost like we’re seeing Grian here scrawling his thoughts on rock, a document of a writer’s place in time, as he takes in all of life’s rich emotions. The foreboding darkness is spewed out in All of the People – “People are scum I will say it again/Don’t let anyone tell you that/They wanna be your friend/They just wanna get close enough to/Take the final shot/They will celebrate the things that make you who you’re not” – drawing poison from the writer like a cathartic release. This careens into the jaunty waltz-janglings of Bob’s Casino, still casting a dark light all the same, “It’s a poor man’s game / This serious life / No pursuit could make me, The man for my wife;” which, quite rightly so, is a favourite of mine on the record.

Despite what the name suggests, Chaos From The Fly is a doleful lull warped with rumination and tightly-wound traditional folk instrumentation as it dances and darts from one lucid tale to the next. Fairlies is of wispy enchantment, as the staggered strings and hypnotic acoustics bring up the stony vocals of surrealism, “The fairies get their fingers and they spin your wheel / And they make you look at sunshine that your skin will never feel.” Opening monologue of The Score, meanwhile, is an odd one to set off your sights of a solo artist but it’s simply an honest reflection of life’s implausible escapes of fate, “You see your heart’s been tethered / To a sinking stone.”

We’re certainly not new to Grian’s smarmy vocals > his nonplussed delivery resulting in everything what post-punk should offer. And as ever, it’s a keeling voice fitting to this bill as it draws you in the tales being spun. The vocalist shows his seasoned skills in finale Season For Pain. A song that can be mistaken as a whimsical footnote at the back of an old tavern, it features a lonesome acoustic guitar and Grian’s charred vocals that are so cutting, “If you have nowhere to go / Get used to the rain. This is no season for loving. /This is the season for pain.”

Fontaines D.C has a core identity of Ireland blazoned on its adorning flag. Grian’s singing voice is resolutely Dublin; not to mention the small shamrock on his wrist. So, you’d expect Grian’s personal trope of solo work to not be any different. Of course, when the lights dim and the lifestyle of an Irish rockstar simmers away for just the night, I often wonder what sensibilities go on in a head like Grian’s. Well now we know.

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A fantasy bard of colour and adventure, Chaos For The Fly is woven tales of life’s stories – “I don’t really want to live with those feelings, so I needed to put them into music.”

Check out our review of Fontaines D.C’s latest >>Skinty Fia<<