7/10

There's absolutely nothing cautious about 'Cyber Celt'. Chasing Abbey’s debut album arrives after years of singles, EPs and live shows, but instead of treating the occasion as a tidy consolidation of what they already do, the Tullamore trio use it to push their identity into far stranger and more ambitious territory.

Across thirteen tracks, traditional Irish instrumentation collides with electronic production, club energy and a much stronger embrace of Gaeilge. The contrast is immediate and exhilarating as old forms are pulled apart, amplified and fired directly into the present.

Ronan Bell, Jonathan Byrne and Ted Conway clearly view their heritage as something active rather than static, and the album repeatedly asks what can be carried forward, what should be challenged and what deserves to be reclaimed.

‘Greedy Pigs’ captures that spirit particularly well. Inspired by Conway’s memories of working as a butcher, the track turns the image of an endlessly feeding animal into a broader attack on unchecked greed. Elsewhere, ‘Íorónta’ moves into explicitly political territory, with the band connecting Irish historical experience to what they see as continuing patterns of oppression elsewhere in the world.

Those convictions are central to the album, but it never feels like a collection of speeches with beats attached. The trio understand spectacle as tracks including ‘Gorta’, ‘Culchie’, ‘Saoirse Saoirse’ and ‘Colonised Minds’ carry a mix of confrontation, identity and resistance, while the production gives the material the physical impact needed to match those ideas.

After a decade spent building towards a full-length statement, 'Cyber Celt' sounds appropriately enormous. It's abrasive, celebratory, politically charged and fiercely proud of where it comes from. Most importantly, Chasing Abbey make tradition feel alive enough to argue with, grabbing hold of the past and asking what it can become next.