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Lincoln Theatre, Washington, D.C. Photos by Bob Boilen for NPR Music.

The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon: Take Me To Church

The New York Times - Review: Hozier at Beacon Theater With Somber Songs of Love and Other Futilities

Hozier, the Irish songwriter who performed at the Beacon Theater on Friday night, is a somber phenomenon. His songs ponder passion, mortality, compulsion and sin. His voice is a richly melancholy moan, with echoes of Van Morrison and Jeff Buckley; his music is grounded in blues, soul and Celtic ballads, and it’s full of minor chords, starkly syncopated guitar picking, blunt tom-tom beats and moody drama. Yet Hozier, whose debut album was released last fall, is also a hitmaker who was greeted, between his doleful songs, with the squeals and whistles of pop adoration and female voices calling out, “I love you!”

“Take Me to Church,” a song Hozier released in 2013, has sold millions of copies and was nominated for song of the year at this year’s Grammy Awards. Its lyrics find spirituality in lust, contrasting a church that preaches “fresh poison each week” with a girlfriend he’ll “worship in the bedroom”; its music is mournful and sturdy, with a gospel-tinged chorus. Its video, with more than 130 million views online, portrays homophobic violence and arson, with no happy ending.

Hozier has arrived in an era of pensive ballad singers like Lorde and Sam Smith, but with a perspective even gloomier than theirs. “Arsonist’s Lullabye” was a sociopath’s autobiography, while “Sedated” declared, “We are deaf, we are numb/Free and young and we can feel none of it.”

When he offers romance, it’s usually with a morbid streak. “Work Song” vows that his love is so strong he’d get out of his grave to be with his sweetheart. The lyrics of “In a Week,” a folky waltz that he performed as a duet with his band’s cellist, Alana Henderson, imagine two lovers’ corpses lying side by side, to be discovered “when the buzzards get loud/after the insects have made their claim.” Hozier introduced “Someone New,” a song about thoughts of infidelity, saying: “This song is a fun one. It’s about love at its most futile and momentary and empty, and it’s appropriately and tragically co-written by an ex-girlfriend.”

The set was drawn almost entirely from Hozier’s debut album, along with two cover versions that neatly pinpointed his musical coordinates. One was “Illinois Blues” from the Delta bluesman Skip James; Hozier scrupulously credited his own version to a modern remake by Alvin Youngblood Hart. The song made clear all that Hozier has learned from the blues. The other song was far more recent: “Problem,” a 2014 hit for Ariana Grande. Her version is a well-turned pop song with a snappy beat and a guest rap from Iggy Azalea, but Hozier backdated the arrangement toward 1960s soul and brought out the verses. It was still pop, but instead of a giggly kiss-off, “Problem” revealed itself as a battle between desire and better judgment — a lot like Hozier’s own unlikely pop successes.

The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon: Work Song

#the tonight show starring jimmy fallon

In the lead up to Other Voices Series 13, we are bringing you a very special programme of exclusive performances from Hozier’s appearance in St. James’ Church, Dingle in December 2013. 

The hour long special episode will air on RTE2 at 10:50pm on March 15th.

Boston Herald- Last Best Show: Hozier at House of Blues Boston

The problem with a monster hit is that you can hear it so many times that you stop really listening.

“If I’m a pagan of the good times, my lover’s the sunlight.”

The lyric is from Hozier’s smash single “Take Me To Church,” which I am fairly certain you have heard more times than you’ve visited your house of worship in the last year, but when the Irish bluesman crooned the words last night during a gripping set at the House of Blues, it took on a different sort of traction. When you see Hozier playing the Song of the Year nominee on TV with Annie Lennox at the Grammys, it’s easy to be swept up in the sprawling scope of the thing.That’s the luxury of the live show – it’s an opportunity to strip away some of the spectacle and see what’s left.

Last night, I was impressed by Hozier’s ability to sing. But what made the biggest impression was the elegance of the songwriter’s voice.

Maybe I’m just the last to notice. After all, Hozier’s self-titled debut album could not have been a much bigger success, and the attending sold-out audience seemed to know and cherish every word of it. During the set, he rifled through a rotation of guitars, each tuned to change the sound just enough to suit his next soulful confession. From the sulking “To Be Alone,” to the love dirge of “In A Week,” and the insistent optimism of “Someone New,” (which he noted was fittingly and “tragically co-written by an ex-girlfriend,”) Hozier showcased a honed capacity to marry an intimate, folk-inflected blues sound with the sweeping power of synth-soaked modern radio. He’s got the musical chops to hang with the Newport Folk Festival set, but isn’t afraid of the sonic power of the laptop.

His fascination with striking the balance between tradition and modernity was never better illustrated than in his encores, when he unplugged on a solo acoustic version of “Cherry Wine,” before going full-on maximalist for his cover of Ariana Grande’s scorned pop anthem “Problem.” And the guy must read a lot of Buzzfeed and Jezebel, because he seemed to know the power he was unleashing when he played the encores with his ’80s-length-but-modern-conditioned hair up in one of those faux-chic man buns that seem so popular in the hipper areas.

The easiest thing to notice in Hozier’s body of work is his command of powerful hooks, but seeing him live helped unpack both his influences and lyrics, which revealed the meaty poetry of his verses. And he’s no slouch on the axe, either. His band was notable for a few reasons – he had a cellist, there was no one strumming a bass, the aforementioned laptop, and every member of the band lent vocal backing to the performance, which had a stirring effect. The house was obviously torn down when he performed “Take Me To Church.” His cover of Skip James’s “Illinois Blues,” seemed to be as personal a statement as any, and he closed the show with strength on “Work Song,” which he teased as the next single. I enjoyed the music, but in the listening, I found myself most moved by the writing. And in writing, it’s important to cite your sources. So my most satisfying moment came early, during a fantastical daydream about the life he wanted to build with his new flame:

“We’ll name our children Jackie and Wilson, raise ‘em on rhythm and blues.”

Montreal Gazette- Concert review: Hozier has more than a Church to his name

For an artist whose most famous lyric is coloured with a sacrilegious streak, Andrew Hozier-Byrne had no trouble finding something to believe in at Metropolis on Tuesday.

If the 24-year-old Irish singer-songwriter’s blues/soul/gospel hybrid was a touch polite and cautious on last year’s self-titled debut album and the preceding EPs, it was a divine force on stage. Accompanied by a six-piece band that found religion even as their leader sang of losing his, Hozier made an iron-clad case for career longevity despite a good percentage of fans waiting for the four-minute pre-encore blockbuster.

The conviction was there from the outset, with Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene buoyed by church-pew claps and holy harmonies, and grounded by Hozier’s swampland guitar. It was as tight and concise as the title isn’t.

The heavy swing of From Eden and Jackie & Wilson’s gritty licks sustained that titanic energy level before the players finally drew breath. Someone New was introduced with self-deprecation — “This is a fun one: a song about love at its most empty and futile” — but came with a jovial chorus that lived up to the first part of that billing.

Hozier’s beaming smiles suggested nothing but the truth when he said “I remember this audience.” Four months after his local debut at the Virgin Mobile Corona Theatre, this was another quick sellout, at more than twice the capacity. With most songs greeted warmly in a matter of notes, the appreciation from much of the crowd was undeniable. The drawing power of a single Grammy-nominated hit was also undeniable, with the noise level on the back half of the floor sometimes coming close to shattering records for ambient chatter.

“I don’t know if everyone here is familiar with Skip James …” The applause-o-meter counted maybe five Delta blues fans, and the solo acoustic Illinois Blues was nearly drowned out. The haunting In a Week fared better: surely one of the loveliest songs ever sung from the perspective of a decomposing corpse, the duet with cellist Alana Henderson was blessed with a rare devotion. The chemistry between the two was addictive; one shared song wasn’t nearly enough.

It would be impossible to overstate the importance of harmonies in general at the show. In a band with four female vocalists, the celestial choir lifted an earthy frontman higher than he could go on his own, giving an otherworldly halo to songs that were sometimes built on a bedrock of barroom blues — albeit fantastic, driving barroom blues.

Which isn’t to say the man on the marquee was just along for the ride musically. Hozier’s lowdown guitar was as crucial as his honeyed howl, and could simultaneously bite and caress on numbers like the 10-ton Arsonist’s Lullabye.

Sedated’s thunderclaps and Foreigner’s God pointed to a possible future in arenas before the inevitable Take Me to Church. The flip side to the earlier ADD distraction was a colossal singalong here, with the cleansing power of the “amen” chant compensating for the comically obnoxious number of cellphone videos in progress.

Those who streamed toward the exit in the encore break missed out on a hymn-like Cherry Wine (with those phones used for good rather than evil, bathing Metropolis in 2,000 points of light), a handclap-heavy appropriation of Ariana Grande’s Problem, and more sincere awe from a humbled singer.

Having paid thanks to simpatico support act George Ezra (twice), his musicians and every crew member down to the merch guy (“give him a hug on your way out”), Hozier wrapped up with Work Song. It sounded both final and open-ended — a sombre but healing valediction and a pledge of eternal love. It came from the perspective of a man in it for the long haul. So did the entirety of Tuesday’s show.