By Tom Lanham
W
hen Andrew Hozier-Byrne looks
back on his past four successful
years — ever since his epony-
mous debut disc went #1 in his native
Ireland and Top 10 around the world,
fueled by the irresistible, Gospel-fervent
smash single “Take Me to Church” — he
has a tough time remembering all his sub-
sequent major career coups. Or maybe it’s
his innate nice-guy humility that keeps
him from going on at length about his sto-
ried accomplishments. Instead, as he holds
his breath waiting to release the crucial
Wasteland, Baby! followup, he’s been treas-
uring the small stuff — small tokens
picked up along the colorful tour trail, all
of which he keeps squirreled away in an
unassuming little box. “And it’s sitting
here in my wardrobe, with me right now,”
the 28-year-old sighs, proudly.
Its contents might not mean much to
others, but to him, they’re the cat’s paja-
mas. There’s a promotional iron-on flight
crew patch from Christopher Nolan’s
heady 2014 flick Interstellar, intended to
take up a spot on his patch-bedecked sig-
nature jean jacket. But there’s hardly any
remaining space left for ironing. “There
are just a lot of odds and ends in that box,”
says the soulful, rafter-raising vocalist.
“There was this radio DJ named Bob who
gave me a piece of the Berlin Wall — he
had a few pieces sitting around his studio,
from his travels in Germany back in the
‘80s. And I’m sure that there is a grotesque
Hozier bobblehead doll in there, and a
strange crocheted likeness, as well. They’re
all just little mementos that cross your path
here and there, so I’ve set aside a special
box to save them all in.”
That same humility affected every
aspect of Wasteland, from its ultra-cool
cameos (Mavis Staples on the jazzy opener
“Nina Cried Power”) to a particularly
Celtic homage (“Shrike”) and a handful of
grim political cuts (“No Plan” and the title
track) and naturally more of the reverent
“Church” same (“Almost,” “Sunlight,”
“Would That I”). Some numbers tap into
tropical rhythms, like “Nobody,’’ and even
a little country rock on the twanging
“Dinner & Diatribes.” Hozier’s droll but
rapier-sharp wit kept him down to Earth,
too — there isn’t much this good-natured
chap can’t laugh off. The only time he gets
cagey is in fending off any serious discus-
sion of his current romantic relationship,
or lack thereof. Otherwise, he had a great
deal to relate to IE...
IE: Where have been some of the strangest
places you’ve heard “Take Me to Church”?
Or had any strange licensing requests?
HOZIER: Some requests come your way,
and you worry what you want the song sit-
ting next to. But one of the oddest ones
was, we got a letter from a pastor, a minis-
ter who was presiding over a minimum
security prison, and he’d made a request
that if we were passing through, would we
perform it for some of his inmates. He did-
n’t see where the song was coming from, I
guess. But it’s one of those things with
music, where the listener has to finish the
piece.
IE: Have you found yourself in many sur-
real situations?
H: I dunno. A lot of things happen, and
you experience a lot of random memories,
but mostly through retrospect. It’s a funny
one. I’ve tried to keep a journal of it all, but
just finding that half hour to an hour to sit
down and reflect upon the day and scrib-
ble your thought down? That is incredibly
hard. But there were certain wonderful
things that you can’t be prepared for, like
meeting and working with Mavis Staples
on “Nina Cried Power” (first featured on a
recent album-introductory EP). Just to
meet somebody like Mavis? She is such a
legend, such a hero. And for her to be sup-
portive of that song and supportive of my
work, in general, was just amazing. And
she also said some really fantastic words of
encouragement, really kind words, as well,
and you certainly could not be prepared
for that. And maybe when you’re worried
about going out onstage to play before a
bunch of your peers, or whatever, you can
think about the worst things that you’re
not gonna be prepared for. But I have to
say, standing next to Mavis Staples and
working with her — that was a fantastic
good feeling that I could not ever be pre-
pared for. A feeling I’m incredibly grateful
for.
IE: Did you feel any sophomore pressure at
all?
H: Yes and no. The label was great. My
management was great. So I didn’t feel any
outside pressure — the pressure was all
self-controlled. So you only feel competi-
tive with yourself, to make exemplary
work that is relevant to you, art that speaks
to your vision, your own music. So you
can’t ever let that go or betray that along
the way. That was the main thing I was
conscious of.
IE: But a lot of the record sounds like you
fell in love somewhere along the way.
True?
H: Err, um…interesting. There are definite-
ly some love songs in there. And I was
lucky enough to have enjoyed experiences
of that nature. But at times, it’s weird. I
want to sing of my experiences, but I cer-
tainly don’t want to put my laundry in the
songs. Like in the song “Movement” —
there’s a lot of feelings hooked onto that
song that are very much an appreciation of
whoever it is. But I’m also pulling from
memories that could be from 10 or 12 years
ago. So for me, anything that paints what
continues on page 26
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illinoisentertainer.com february
2019