Pete Holidai – Dublin’s original punk. Co-founder of The Radiators from Space in ’76, Ireland’s first punk snarlers, droppin’ bombs like “Television Screen” and “Enemies” that bridged raw rebellion with street-smart hooks. Through the heartbreak of the Radiators, the Trouble Pilgrims, and decades of grit, Pete has never lost his undyin’ love for 1970s glam – that glittery fuse that lit punk’s fire.
Now, in 2025, Electric Jukebox Volume One (34 minutes, 10 tracks) is a triumphant glam-punk blast, channelin’ Marc Bolan’s T. Rex boogie, David Bowie’s theatrical swagger, the New York Dolls’ sleazy strut, and Iggy Pop’s wild-man energy.
Opening like it’s 1972, “On The Jukebox In The Corner” sets the pub-stompin’ sing-along tone, while “Hot Love On My TV Screen” and “A New Revolution” echo Bolan, “Daydream Girl” floats glam-dub-psych vibes (with a nod to Bowie’s flair). Punk rippers like “Glam Rocker Punk Shocker” and “Sick and Tired of the Internet” deliver New York Dolls/Iggy snarls. Guests like Paul McLoone (The Undertones) and Tony St. Ledger (his mate from Trouble Pilgrims) add roar. The production shines without losing the jagged edge.
This is joyous, hook-filled adrenaline – proof Pete’s fire burns brighter than ever. Essential for Radiators fans or glam-punk devotees.
The Rumjacks are back with their sixth album, Dead Anthems, the second full-length with Mike Rivkees barking at the helm – the Boston bhoy who jumped aboard the ship Rumjack for 2021’s Hestia and gave the band a new lease of life after the departure of Frankie McLaughlin. Produced by Mike Rivkees with Pete Steinkopf from The Bouncing Souls co-producing, Dead Anthems got a crisp, punchy sound that still keeps the raw Celtic-punk grit we love.
Kicks off with “Come Hell or High Water,” a immigrant tale you’ll be roaring along to in no time, then barrels into the frantic “They Kick You When You’re Down.” Ken Casey from the Dropkick Murphys lends his growl to “Cold Like This,” a ode to New England winters. Standout for me is “An Irish Goodbye on St. Valentine’s Day” – catchy as hell, with that bittersweet sting of love slipping away in the pub haze.
Compared to Hestia, that fiery return album, Dead Anthems tightens the screws: sharper hooks, bigger production, and a good mix of full-throttle punk with some thoughtful slower burns. The back half, like “Eye for an Eye” and the closer with its Ska undertones, “Some Legends Never Die,” adds real depth without killing the momentum. It’s a cracking listen that keeps The Rumjacks right up there with the best in Celtic-punk. Grab a pint, knock it back and give Dead Anthems a spin (loud).
It’s been a bit of a wait, hasn’t it, folks? After those two Woody Guthrie-inspired acoustic jaunts – This Machine Still Kills Fascists and Okemah Rising – that had the Dropkicks channeling their inner folk troubadours, the Boston street-punks are back with For The People, and Jaysus, it’s like they’ve plugged back into the electric grid of their Celtic punk origins. No more sittin’ ’round the campfire strummin’ protest ballads; this one’s got the bagpipes wailin’, the banjos pickin’ furiously, and that signature gang-vocal roar that makes ya wanna down a pint and stomp the floorboards.
Produced by the ever-reliable Ted Hutt (who’s been behind the boards since Going Out In Style), For The People clocks in with 12 tracks (or 16 tracks on the expanded edition) of pure, unadulterated Murphys mayhem. It’s got that raw energy that harkens back to their early days – think Do Or Die meets Signed And Sealed In Blood – but with a matured edge that comes from decades of road-warrior wisdom. The themes are still rooted in the working-class struggle, solidarity, and a healthy dose of anti-establishment bite, but delivered with the kind of hooks that stick in yer skull like a well-thrown elbow in the pit.
Frontman Al Barr is still on leave (family comes first, fair play to him), but he makes a killer guest appearance on “The Vultures Circle High,” beltin’ out those gravelly vocals like he never left. Ken Casey holds down the fort admirably as always, his bark leadin’ the charge on anthems that beg for live sing-alongs. Speakin’ of guests, the album’s packed with some stellar cameos that amp up the Celtic flavor: Irish up-and-comers The Scratch bring their chaotic energy, The Mary Wallopers add that rowdy folk-punk grit, and none other than Billy Bragg joins the fray on a raucous cover of Ewan MacColl’s “School Days Over.” It’s a perfect fit – Bragg’s socialist soul meshes seamlessly with the Murphys’ ethos, turnin’ the old miner’s lament into a full-throated pub banger.
Standouts? “Who’ll Stand With Us?” the title track kicks things off with a blisterin’ pace, bagpipes screamin’ over thrashin’ guitars. The balls to the wall “The Big Man”, an ode to Fletcher Dragge of Pennywise. The aforementioned “School Days Over” and “One Last Goodbye: Tribute to Shane”
All in all, this is the best Dropkick Murphys album in a long time. It’s a triumphant return to form, remindin’ us why these lads are the kings of Celtic punk. If ya’ve been cravin’ that high-octane blend of Irish tradition and punk fury, grab For The People and crank it loud!
At long last, Dollar for Your Dreams gets the full-length CD release we’ve been waiting for. Initially released in 1987 on cassette only, the cassette version has become hard and expensive to obtain in recent years. If you did manage to get your hands on one, what do you play it on?
The Radiators were the pioneers of Irish punk, full stop. Before U2 were playing church halls, these northside misfits were spitting out snarling anthems and giving the finger to showbands and bloated 70s rock. TV Tube Heart and Ghostown have rightly earned near-legendary cult status, but Dollar for Your Dreams, their reunion live offering, often got lost in the analogue shuffle—no more.
This one’s older, wiser, and soaked in the heartbreak and dispare of 1980s post-punk Ireland. There’s still bite—”Television Screen” punches like a knuckleduster to the jaw—but also reflection, melody, and maturity. Philip Chevron (RIP), the band’s beating heart, had by then joined The Pogues, and that influence seeps through. It’s punk with soul, politics with poetry.
For fans of Irish punk, this isn’t just a reissue—it’s a resurrection. If Dollar for Your Dreams slipped past you the first time, no excuses now. This is essential listening from one of Ireland’s most important and criminally underrated bands. A proper dose of Dublin defiance.
Two years after its digital debut, Green Willow finally lands on vinyl, and it’s a damn fine excuse to dust off the turntable and down a double of good Canadian whiskey and a shot of vodka. The Dreadnoughts have never been ones to play it tame, and Green Willow is another glorious stew of Celtic punk, polka fury, and sea shanty swagger—like a Czech wedding crashing into a Galway wake.
From stomping fiddle romps to squeezebox-driven drinking anthems, the album is packed with manic energy and haunting beauty. Their take on “The Foggy Dew” is a standout—slow, reverent, then exploding into punk-folk chaos that’ll put a lump in your throat and a fist in the air. Meanwhile, “Spanish Ladies” is a sea shanty masterclass, drenched in salt, sweat, and rum-soaked harmonies.
The Dreadnoughts continue to prove they’re more than just a party band. There’s craft in the madness, and Green Willow is one of their most nuanced records to date. Essential listening for punks, pirates, and polka freaks alike.
The Peelers are back, and they’ve done it again with The Holy Crux of Honour, their latest and greatest, which is a whiskey-soaked, foot-stomping, fist-pumping blast of Celtic punk that’s as rowdy and ruckus as a Saturday night in a dodgy Dublin pub on the wrong side of the Liffey, and as passionate and, heartfelt as an old rebel tune sung way past closing time.
The album kicks off with the title track. This bagpipe lament collides into a raucous declaration of defiance that sets the tone for what follows—furious guitars, searing fiddle, and lyrics steeped in history, loss, and the kind of hard-won victories only a true Celt can understand. “Last Banjo in Paris” throws in a bit of humor and irreverence, a classic Peelers move, while “Criminal, Cop, or Priest” reminds us why Dave Barton is one of the best bards this side of Shane MacGowan.
Musically, The Peelers stick to their guns—pipes, mandolins, and accordions battling it out with crunchy guitars and a rhythm section that could wake Finnigan himself. Fans of The Pogues, The Mahones, and Dropkick Murphys will feel right at home, but there is a depth here that sets The Peelers apart from the crowd. This is not just Celtic punk—it’s Celtic punk with soul, with anthems like “Caught a Bullet” and “Blades in the Alleyway” demanding to be played loud, preferably with a pint in each hand.
Final verdict? The Holy Crux of Honour is a belter of an album, full of grit, passion, and the spirit that keeps Celtic punk alive and kicking. The Peelers don’t just play the music—they live it. Sláinte!
Red Ken and his band of merry men have returned with their sixth full-length album, ready to storm the gates of Downing Street. If you are unfamiliar with Ferocious Dog, where the hell have you been? In the last ten years, the band has risen to be arguably the biggest folk-punk band in the UK, mixing punk, Celtic, gypsy, and protest folk (and the first non-signed band ever to sell out the legendary Rock City venue). Kleptocracy is fast, fiddle-infused folk punk with a strong social conscience (they hate the Tories, really hate them). Influences I hear include The Levellers, McDermott’s Two Hours, and The Clash, yet the band still has its own distinct sound. My personal favorite tracks on Kleptocracy include Iron Mike Malloy, Merthyryr Rising (with its Follow me up to Carlow melody), and A Place We Call Home, a song in the spirit of Fairytale of New York (a possible hit single?)
Honestly, there isn’t one bad track or even a filler on the album. Here’s to hopefully seeing Ferocious Dog stateside someday.
Drink To The Night (Live) is a 20-year live retrospective of one of the planet’s best and most original Celtic punk bands, Melbourne’s The Go Set. If you are unfamiliar with The Go Set, they are a bagpipe-heavy, alternative/punk outfit with a distinctive Aussies style – (old) AC/DC, The The, and Weddings Parties Anything all come to mind when I try to describe them. Drink To The Night is a best of live and a great introduction to the band unless you’re an old hand, then Drink To The Night (Live) is a great reminder of how good these guys are. Sadly, Drink To The Night (Live) seems to be a digital-only album. Hopefully, it gets a physical release, too.
Well, this is a surprise. As much as I loved the debut UltraBomb album, Time To Burn, I assumed it would be a one-off project, especially after the band’s problems with tour cancellations, COVID-19, and other serious illnesses. But no, UltraBomb is back with a second album, Dying To Smile, and a highly successful tour of the US East Coast opening for Me First and the Gimme Gimmes.
If you are unfamiliar with Ultrabomb, imagine Finny McConnell from The Mahones at his punk rock best, hooking up with the legendary Greg Norton of the even more legendary Hüsker Dü and Jamie Oliver, the best drummer in punk rock, to make a punk rock masterpiece. Well, don’t imagine anymore cos Ultrabomb is the real deal. Punk rock at its very best. And you read it here first.
Okemah Rising is the companion album to the Dropkick Murphys 2022 release, This Machine Still Kills Fascists, i.e. it’s the unpublished lyrics of legendary American folk singer Woody Guthrie as interpreted by the Dropkick Murphys. Al Barr is still absent from the band, so vocal duties fall to Ken Casey. Like This Machine…., Okemah Rising is more rooted in Americana than punk, though it still has that raw sing-along, punk energy. The Violent Femmes guest on Gotta Get To Peekskill, Boston folk-hooligan Jesse Ahern, guests on Ripping Up The Boundary Line, and the DKMs rerecord an acoustic, I’m Shipping Up To Boston. If you liked This Machine…, you’ll lap up Okemah Rising; if you didn’t, well, the Murphys will be back to being the Murphys soon.