The County Wicklow wordsmith turns the electro-acoustic up to 8 for his sophomore sessions.With a first half that contains the more Dylan than Dylan opener Protection Racket, the anti-authoritarian garage-rock rant of Genocide Matinee and the brooding Mersey-beat of Violent Demeanour, it is clear that this certainly isn’t The End Of History Part 2. The Shadow Of An Empire is a rougher, more energetic affair when compared to the instantly accessible, lilting folk of his Mercury nominated debut. If The End Of History was a weather-beaten hike to a remote farmhouse to curl up, crestfallen, by the fire on the morning after, then The Shadow Of An Empire is the night before – a whisky and ale-fuelled barnstormer of a hoedown. But even so, it is still the slower numbers that provide the show stopping moments here. The romance riddled recollections of Little Nancy and the sweeping sentiments of Lord Help My Poor Soul betray Regan’s skill for sad-eyed songcraft.
Much like Laughing Bob, Regan has a unique way with words. His lyrics blur the boundaries between music and literature; he was even invited to speak to students by the Literary Society at Trinity College Dublin. It’s hard to think of many contemporary artists who can paint such vivid pictures of rural recreation or create such colourful, countrified collages.
While it is not as consistently stunning as his first effort, Empire is yet another effortlessly realised body of work and a glorious racket.
