Duality in Motion — A Conversation with Cardinals on Their New Album Masquerade
- Janset Yasar
- 2 hours ago
- 5 min read
Photo by Steve Gullick
A few years ago, I received a video in my inbox. I remember the excruciating time it took for my shitty laptop to load it, and how my earbuds seemed to be sounding worse than ever that day. I remember telling myself I’d sift through the inbox another time, because in these little technical irritations, nothing could be enjoyed. Just as I was about to close the tab, the video named Cardinals - Unreal (Official Music Video) finally loaded, pixel by stubborn pixel. I pressed the space bar and that’s how I met the Irish five-piece Cardinals. I guess you don’t get to decide which incredibly mundane snapshots your brain keeps, but somehow I’ve carried that tiny, infuriatingly ordinary moment with me, always hand in hand with the band.
I was hit with a stab of curiosity as the video progressed and a montage of a couple of guys going about their days materialized on my screen. The music video was endearingly premature in the way it presented itself, yet incredibly ambitious in its musical execution. It was the contrast between a sound that was so assertive and a look that was still untouched that struck me the most. Their eponymous debut EP served as a perfect introduction to the Cork-based band. The accordion’s warm, traditional timbre intertwined with guitar lines that nodded to early indie currents, while Euan Manning’s earnest vocals hinted at a singular vision of pop and rock converging.
On their new album Masquerade, Cardinals let the contrast they have always mastered manifest everywhere, as if it has become the band’s guiding principle. Even in press photos, they appear bathed in light or submerged entirely in shadow, a visual counterpart to the interplay that defines their music. If their music sounds loud and brimming with energy, what animates that voltage, as it turns out during my interview with Euan and Finn, is something slower, more deliberate. There is a subtle split between the music’s outward volume and the temperament behind it. It is precisely this tension that propels Cardinals forward on Masquerade, pushing their sound to new heights.
« Duality is an essential part of what do. It’s one of the most interesting ways to view concepts, I think. Take David Lynch for example, he is the king of duality. He shows a picturesque surface of Americana while revealing the horror lurking underneath. The concept of duality has always been there for us, and it’s definitely better on this record.» says Euan.
He also cites books like The Butcher Boy by Patrick McCabe and The Third Policeman to mention how he admires work that is dark, yet also sharp and funny. The quest for a multitude of meanings seems to spring from an inexhaustible well.
No matter how abrasive the sound grows, the lyrics never veer into cynicism or heavy irony; the vulnerability and poetic sensibility that defined their debut EP remain intact on Masquerade. Yet the intensity of their sound has evolved, taking on a darker edge while still allowing glimpses of its underlying pop-like qualities to shine through. Tracks like “Barbed Wire” especially highlight this balance, whereas the ballad “I Like You” softens the tension with gentle, charming warmth, “Don’t change your hair for me, if you still care for me”, a wink toward My Funny Valentine, almost unbearably sweet. The album shifts pace again on “Anhedonia” and “Big Empty Heart,” where two distinct kinds of intensity emerge: one jittery and caffeine-fueled, the other cinematic and grandiose, like the soundtrack to the end of the world.
Euan explains that Cardinals’ sonic direction feels inseparable from their roots: “I just think… where we’re from is quite gritty. It just made more sense than doing softer rock, pop stuff. It just didn’t really do it personally for us anymore.” Finn adds, “We’re rock fans anyway. Those are still the influences we’re leaning into. We like heavy music and heavier guitars, loud music, heavy drums and stuff.” The darker palette of the record, Euan notes, was informed not just by sound but by what they were immersing themselves in, films like Gus Van Sant’s Elephant, which they watched one evening during recording, and books with shadowed, complex subject matter. "We watched Elephant by Gus Van Sant when we were recording the album one evening, which is kind of as dark as you can go."
Masquerade also alludes to a lot of religious imagery: from the Adam and Eve biting the apple on the artwork, to the cross-heavy visuals of Big Empty Heart, to lines like ‘Bask in the relief at the throne of Jesus Christ / Everything he’s ever seen / I don’t think you’ve worn his grief’ on She Makes Me Real, the album constantly engages with themes of faith, grief and suffering. "For this record it became a recurring tool for lyricism because I found it to be a useful lens for looking at devotion and loss. Bible covers pretty much all, right? I’m just using it as a way to look at things from a different light." Euan says. "I see it as a fading part of our society but it has been a big part of our lives, especially while growing up."
When I ask them if they were raised religious, Finn says that they had been raised Roman Catholic “We were baptized, we went to communion and confirmation, brought to mass up until we were around 12. And then the pedophile scandal happened, which was huge news in Ireland. Our parents were quite disgusted by that and slowly but surely stopped taking us to the church." he adds, before finishing with, “You don’t need to have a church to tell you how pure you are,” Finn touches on a sentiment that could very well have made its way into a line on the album. Masquerade, while creating a dialogue between inherited tradition and personal interpretation, strives to find another kind of truth. One that is more personal rather than institutional.
To celebrate the release of the album like a true rock band™, Cardinals will be on tour for a while. That concept has always been funny to me, as it carries the most romantic Kerouac-informed myth while also being one of the most complex realities for artists. "We spend a lot of time in England on the side of motorways. It's a lot of sitting in vans for a long time, trying to keep yourself busy. There is some things to romanticize but it’s not all easy, it’s not like you’re on holiday." Finn says. "Highs are quite high and the lows are quite low." adds Euan.
When I ask them if they get to sit back and digest where their music has taken them, without thinking about the next stop or the next thing to achieve, Euan says, “90% of touring is just waiting around, so you actually have quite a lot of time to ponder. I wouldn’t say that I haven’t had the time to be grateful.” He then immediately turns the question to Finn with genuine curiosity, who talks about a recent article published about them: “They just listed a bunch of things we did, and I had kinda forgotten about them, and I was like, wow, yeah, we did that. Maybe you don’t process everything as it happens, but I’m very thankful to be at this stage in my life right now.”
Cardinals are as exciting as an emerging band can be, but what makes them compelling isn’t simply momentum, tours, or a flood of features. There’s something almost dialectical in the way their music turns inward before it lashes out, how it contours heaviness with light and then reverses the equation. Their references, philosophical, musical and literary, never feel ornamental. They are fully metabolized and reflected on. What emerges is an intentional tension, light teasing dark in real time.