CMAT’s EURO-COUNTRY Captures What It Means To Be Irish

An album that makes a good man cry

 

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One of the Eurozone countries commanding fresh attention is Ireland, where artists in film, literature, and music are building a cultural moment that’s hard to ignore. Ireland’s influence stretches well beyond the Irish Sea, leaving its imprint on international art and conversation.

This Friday, that influence resurfaces with EURO-COUNTRY, the new album from Irish pop star CMAT (Ciara Mary-Alice Thompson). The record is a pointed nod to her roots, to Ireland’s early adoption of the euro in 2002, and to the country’s tangled history under colonisation and capitalism.

Since its release last week, the album is already drawing waves of praise — not just for its catchy melodies, but for how deeply relevant and real it feels. Critics and fans alike highlight lyrics that cut straight to the heart of Irish experience, while resonating far beyond Ireland itself.

Under the video for When a Good Man Cries, one listener wrote that the blend of Irish blues and sweeping landscapes made them proud to be Irish — despite being Korean. Comments like this reveal how, by digging into her own national identity, CMAT sparks something bigger: a music that inspires people everywhere to reflect on their own sense of belonging.

In this track, CMAT turns inward, unpacking her complicated relationship with herself and the struggle to change. She calls herself “the people’s mess” and adopts the moniker “Dunboyne Diana.” Fans immediately picked up on the double reference: Princess Diana, remembered as the “People’s Princess” for her compassion, and Dunboyne, Ciara’s hometown. Delighted, many listeners now celebrate her as their “Dunboyne Diana” — proof, they argue, that fame has finally found the right person.

 

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The song’s lyrics and visuals are layered with further cultural nods that honour Irish heritage. Ciara name-checks Oscar Wilde’s Dorian Gray, while her dress, by Irish label Culpa Designs, bears the face of cultural icon Daniel O’Donnell. In the video, filmed against a backdrop of rural and industrial Ireland, she sports another Culpa piece: a T-shirt emblazoned with the phrase “Sucking Diesel,” a pointed wink at the realities of the Irish economy.

The title track EURO-COUNTRY weaves together a patchwork of cultural references — from Kerry Katona to sharp political and economic commentary on contemporary Ireland. The song opens in Irish, another way for CMAT to root herself in national identity, as she sings about body image struggles and the haunting sense of becoming “invisible” while someone she likely loved has slipped from her life. These very lines, written in Irish, were controversially cut by the BBC in its radio translation.

As the track unfolds, it sharpens into pointed economic critique. “All the big boys, all the Berties, all the envelopes, yeah they hurt me,” she sings — a clear shot at the political corruption tied to parties like Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael. 

The accompanying video deepens that commentary: filmed in the Omni Shopping Centre in Santry, CMAT dances in a baby-blue top emblazoned with “Bertie,” a reference to former Taoiseach Bertie Ahern and the Celtic Tiger era. That economic boom of the 1990s, fuelled by foreign investment, collapsed by 2008, leaving behind ghost estates “that stay empty even now” and a wave of male suicides that, as she notes, began when she was just twelve.

With her raw, colourful lyrics chronicling Ireland’s realities, CMAT has achieved the goal she once outlined in an interview: to capture small-town mentalities, to show what life in Ireland truly feels like, and to dismantle the romanticised version of the country — a fantasy “built by Americans and English people and claimed for themselves.”

Fans have praised her for this honesty, admiring how she reflects postmodern Ireland in all its complexity. Ciara’s unapologetic voice doesn’t shy away from the issues that matter to her and her listeners, leading some to claim she’s reviving a long-lost era — one where politicians once again feel the pressure of artists unafraid to speak truth to power.

 

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Beyond national identity, CMAT also wrestles with themes of body image and toxic relationships, both of which deepen the emotional weight of the album. In Take a Sexy Picture of Me, she confronts the relentless pressure placed on women to perfect themselves from an early age. The song was sparked by a BBC livestream during which Ciara endured such intense body-shaming that the broadcaster eventually disabled comments.

In the track, she recalls trying to “look good since the age of nine,” only to find that her efforts, her pain, and her sacrifices went unnoticed — especially by a partner who never offered recognition or care. The message is clear: no matter how much you bend yourself to fit the expectations of others — whether by altering your appearance or taking on roles that don’t feel true — someone will always find a reason to be dissatisfied.

That sense of never being “enough” haunts other songs as well. On Running/Planning and Tree Six Foive, CMAT reflects on the devastation of a relationship where she constantly felt diminished. The lyrics capture nights of partying and cycles of self-destruction, from heavy drinking to raising “a beer to the man who was embarrassed by me when the clock struck twelve.” It’s raw, it’s messy, and it’s the kind of unflinching honesty that makes her work cut so close to the bone.

Beyond romantic entanglements, CMAT also reflects on the loss of a close friend whose death left her adrift. She remembers how loud, young, and messy they both were — “damaged and annoying,” as she puts it — and admits to feeling guilty for not missing him as much as she thinks she should. Still, the grief lingers: she hasn’t found anyone else “who would watch me like you.” Unable to fully process that tangle of emotions, she channels her anger toward something tangible — the Tesla parked outside their old homes.

After listening to this vulnerable, sharp-edged take on Celtic pop — and watching its visuals that sketch a living portrait of Ireland — it’s hard to imagine dismissing the album. The struggles CMAT lays bare are far more universal than they might first appear. Whether through politics, dating, friendship, alienation, or grief, EURO-COUNTRY offers at least one thread for every listener to hold onto. 

Its honesty, rawness, and unflinching vulnerability are exactly what audiences crave — proof in the flood of early praise. No wonder CMAT’s third album is being met with such instant love, and not only from “the Irish or lesbians”, but from anyone who sees themselves reflected in her stories.

Words by Dana Shmyha