Moncrieff

When you write 550 songs in five or six years, you either have to be a manic songwriter or you have a lot of life to process. Moncrieff is both. The 30-year-old Irishman says he has gone through "countless different versions of myself" in recent years. After losing his sister in his late teens and his brother less than two years later, life threw him plenty to grapple with. In the midst of it all, he fell in love for the first time. Made mistakes. Made more mistakes. Grew up. Started law school, realized it wasn't for him. Moved from small-town Ireland to London to follow his passion as a songwriter, realized: this is it. Sometimes life tasted wild and free and big, sometimes he felt almost invisible. Wondering if this whole thing called life made any sense at all. His salvation, time and time again: songwriting. "Writing songs helps me process and articulate things that are going on emotionally in my life and things in my past. It puts them in perspective," says Moncrieff. And so he decided to collect all his fears, faults, tears, hopes, laughs, nightmares and fever dreams. Line them up neatly like old toys on the floor of his room. And then to take a big step back and look at them for a while. "And this is the realization I ended up with: Maybe it's fine."

Moncrieff’s upcoming debut album, set for release through Warner Music Central Europe in 2025. After a string of successful EPs and singles that have earned him nearly 50 million streams since 2017, accolades like the RTÉ Choice Music Prize 2023 for "Irish Song of the Year" (for his 2022 hit "Warm"), and performances at major festivals such as Lollapalooza Berlin, Moncrieff could have stayed the course. But he chose not to. His earlier singer- songwriter style could no longer contain what was neatly lined up on the floor of his room. "Honest edge and grit" – these are the words that spring to his mind when describing the character of his debut album. Where smooth lines once existed, now there are rough edges. The Moncrieff of 2024 is rawer, more vulnerable, and less polished. He’s ready to lay his weaknesses bare and explore themes like masculinity, sexuality, and identity in a way he never has before.

"I come from a background of pretty traditional ideals, thinking that I have to give a certain conventional way of portraying myself. And that's been great, it's been a great stepping stone. But I spent the last couple of years exploring love, exploring sexuality, exploring what masculinity means to me and my place in the world. I consider myself to be a man, and I've seen so many real men dressing up any way they want. I've seen real men love other men and it's been a beautiful thing to learn. Also, where I come from, traditional ideas of masculinity would include not talking about things that are going on in your life that you're struggling with," Moncrieff says, adding: "I'm just trying to figure out what being a man means to me. And I know for a fact that it's not bottling up your emotions."

And so Moncrieff lets it all out. Across 12 tracks, Moncrieff invites listeners into his world. The album chronicles the growing pains of adolescence and the trials of his twenties, all through the lens of love. His first great love, specifically. Of those 550 songs, it’s hard to say how many are about her, but her impact on him was undeniable. Deep down, he’d hoped for reconciliation. But now she is getting married next year - not Moncrieff. The first single, "How It Ends," is Moncrieff's cathartic goodbye. "So take me back to twenty one we were all in / Kissin' in the car, rain was pouring," he sings, revisiting the intensity of that young love. Even now, she’s still the first thought in his mind every morning. "You're still the voice inside my head / I don't wanna leave this down to chance / I wanna know how itends," he admits, hoping for a happy ending that never came. Accompanied by rushing soundscapes, a warmly humming Fender Rhodes and a ticking beat that symbolizes the passing of time, Moncrieff’s emotive voice takes listeners on a journey through one of his signature big, cinematic choruses.

The second single, "I Just Don’t Think I’ll Make It Over You," returns to the same woman. It’s about an unexpected reunion after seven years. "My pulse is up / My mouth is dry and you're the reason why / How come no one told me you'd be here tonight?" he asks, capturing the shock of seeing her again. His vulnerable vocals, weaving through falsetto in the chorus, pull you right into the situation. Moncrieff is incredibly strong at making emotional states tangible while listening. It's almost as if you're sitting next to him, your pulse is racing, your mouth is dry. "You still pull that dress off like nobody else" - she looks just as good as she did back then. "Feel like I'm climbing / But I just don't think I'll make it over you" – with vivid imagery, Moncrieff dives deep into his emotions, the soulful piano wrapping around his words. Reflecting on these last two songs, Moncrieff shares, "These are the last two songs I wrote for this person in my life. I don’t feel like I need to write about her anymore. She’s got a lot of songs," he adds with a laugh. The last decade of his life and the relationships that have come with it have led Moncrieff to realize and accept that everything that has happened to him in life, from the darkest lows to the highest highs, has made him the perfectly flawed human he is today. „All those flaws are what make you perfect. To be human is to be flawed. I want to move forward and show a bit more flaws in myself,” he says. „Maybe it's fine” is a story of growth and it's a story of a journey – a story he hopes many can relate to: “Maybe it’s fine is the sigh of relief that it’s okay to feel like shit. Maybe it’s fine is the unlocking and lifting away of a weight that you didn’t realize you were carrying. Maybe it’s fine is accepting that there are some things in life that you can’t control. (most things)

Maybe it's fine is forgiving. Maybe it’s fine is giving yourself a try. MAYBE IT’S FUCKING FINE!“