There’s a quote, by Irish independence leader James Connolly, that says “no revolutionary movement is complete without its poetical expression.”

Mentioned by Irish folk rock artist Hozier on the opening night of his four day stint at New York’s historic Forest Hills Stadium, the quote refers to the importance of art to politics and social change. More than just a relevant quote, it was also a fitting phrase to describe the night, and Hozier’s performance.

Hozier has a reputation amongst fans and casual listeners alike – a mystical “bog prince,” an otherworldly Irish fae, the personification of cottage core who writes deep cut love songs about decaying into the earth with one’s soulmate. It’s clear in the audience’s dress, with earth tones and renaissance faire styles, glitter and florals and long, sweeping sleeves. 

But it’s easy, sometimes convenient, to forget Hozier’s music is more than dulcet romance songs, especially when listeners can skip and repeat songs at their leisure.

His performance leaves no room for the politics of his music to be ignored. He played through softer fan favorites like “Like Real People Do” and recent smash hit “Too Sweet,” but a large swath of the setlist is loud, furious, and raw. Opening with “Eat Your Young,” a slick tongue-in-cheek on capitalist gluttony, the set veers through a thumping “Dinner and Diatribes” that whips up energy and the haunting “It Will Come Back” that darkens it.

“De Selby Part 1” has a spotlight, with Hozier caringly walking the crowd through the song’s Irish-language outro. For non-Irish fans, the lyrics may feel like little more than a homage to his culture. But to take a language that has been so heavily suppressed and erased in the path of colonization, include it in a major record label release, and perform it every night on a sold out tour is a political statement. Despite it being a stripped down, acoustic track, the use of Irish turns it into an anthem, and makes its inclusion one of the real highlights of the night.

Even the love-centric songs chosen in the set have a strength and power to them. “De Selby Part 2,” breakout hit “Take Me To Church”, soaring “Unknown/Nth,” and the heart-wrenchingly honest “Francesca” are all sweeping rock tracks with rousing choruses and raw lyrics that describe love as a physical, soulful, animal feeling; a base instinct we sink into rather than a sweet and structured courtship. At one point, just after the hard-hitting “If someone asked me at the end/ I'd tell them, ‘Put me back in it’/ I would do it again” chorus of “Francesca,” a fan lets out an almost howling scream in response. It felt an appropriate response. The swelling music, Hozier’s raspy, growling vocals, and the intense emotion of loving someone so much you’d choose hell just to be with them is cathartic. It’s an intense setlist, but one that makes perfect sense for the type of artist Hozier is. 

Though his performance style is more subdued, he’s an undeniable powerhouse performer. Magnetic to watch, he shifts through personas on stage with delightful ease. Haunting, siren-like one moment, goofy and gracious and chatting to fans as if they were close friends the next. His vocal abilities certainly take center stage, crooning and soft when needed, raw and hoarse and loud as all hell at other times. He’s not someone you want to look away from, and the end of the night came far faster than anyone would have liked.

There is an overarching feeling of the night, highlighted in the Connolly quote he chose to share with the crowd. Revolution does not exist without art, without care, without love. They are not mutually exclusive, and in fact, heavily intertwined. Revolution comes from a radical love and kindness for one another. From the audience – fans joining together to lift a fan on crutches over the crowd to see the stage, several couples of fans getting engaged, keffiyehs and Palestinian flags waved throughout the crowd – to Hozier himself, raising a Progressive Pride flag on stage and taking over ten minutes to call for a ceasefire in Gaza and a free and liberated Palestine, the poetical expression of revolution was in full force. 

It’s refreshing to see an artist who acknowledges their influence so readily. But from a performer who chooses to close the night with a rousing version of “Nina Cried Power,” an ode to a long list of revolutionary musicians including the titular Nina Simone, it’s not surprising.

Article and Photo Gallery by Niamh Murphy