Dryadic explore modern life, the importance of community, and refusing to stay silent on new album Permission to Speak
Unapologetic in their style and approach and championed for their dedication to storytelling, community, and authentic expression, Dryadic are a UK alt-folk band who play by their own rules and are unwilling to compromise with them, melding Zora McDonald’s feminist, queer songwriting with ambitious sonic arrangements in a way that has never felt more confident and assured than on their new album Permission To Speak.
The album opens with ‘Can’t Keep Up’, is a track that has a very personal feel to it while feeling like it serves as a microcosm of a lot of the issues that people around the UK are facing right now, exploring themes like homeless, struggle and depression in a time where things are growing increasingly fraught and uncertain. The overwhelming feeling that you can’t keep up in life is one that many people who have felt bombarded by modern life will echo, and the gorgeously crafted strings and piano here make for a creative outlet for these feelings that is packed full of nuance and charm throughout.
‘Gongoozling for Two’ follows and is a sentimental track that has a nostalgic, romantic core to it, casting a look back at old times and how much more sense things seemed to make back down as opposed to feeling a little bit lost and overwhelmed today. There is a more subtle and lush tone to the instrumentation here that allows the rawness of the emotion and memories to take precedent, and it makes for a really alluring listening experience.
Both stylistically and lyrically, ‘Redevelop Our Souls’ is a gargantuan track, unfurling like a punchy left-wing protest song about the fat cats and powers that be that look to stifle us and keep us down. The track was inspired by the occupied housing estate protests in North London in 2015, but how relevant and impactful it remains isn’t all that surprising, still serving as a rallying cry against capitalism and privatisation with an immense fiddle hook thrown in for good measure.
Poignant themes like self-acceptance, forgiveness, self-love and empowerment are explored on ‘Ghosts’, and the track’s stirring, stripped-back nature does a great job of putting those feelings front and centre here, serving as the heartbreak of a track that has earned a lot of well-deserved praise. Rather than getting submerged by feelings of negativity and the shackles that they put on us, the track has a fighting spirit to it that feels uplifting and full of hope and optimism, with an inspiring chorus that feels like what a lot of us would love to say to our inner-doubt and everything that holds us back.
‘Smiling in the Dark’ finds Dryadic at their most unashamedly euphoric, unfolding in the form of a queer love song that is packed full of vibrant melodies and charming folk-rock instrumentation that perfectly convey the way that being in love feels.
The importance of community and your chosen family are explored on ‘Rainbow Family’, a track that has a universal appeal that feels especially important when framed through an LGBTQ+ lens. The themes of community are reinforced further though wonderfully charming sing-a-long chorus that has the spirit of togetherness and unity woven through it in compelling fashion, serving as a heartfelt antidote to the isolation that feeling like a misfit can bring.
There is a really satisfying duality to ‘Mansplain’, a track that has a lively ska-punk-tinged feel to the sound that feels light and jovial, while the lyrics themselves serve as a brutal, scathing put down to anybody who gives out unsolicited opinions, unwanted expectations, and unreasonable demands. The track feels like the band putting the rage that a lot of women and queer people feel into words in wonderfully composed and compelling fashion, and it makes for a fun listening experience at the same time (prepare to have “whoaaaa, every time, please fuck off” stuck in your head)
There is a really hard-hitting edge to ‘Not My Government’, a track that sees dissatisfaction with the government transition from apathetic disillusionment to full-throttle anger and disdain, something that feels urgently needed as the far right rise and threaten to continue to slide the political climate in their favour. There is a seething, angst-filled feel to this track that feels invigorating and fierce, and it feels like it could soundtrack a full-scale protest or revolution, such is its power.
The emotional crux of the album comes in its penultimate track, the emotionally charged and devastating ‘Cruel’, a breakup ballad that documents the end of a ten-year relationship that the other person seems to move on for just a little bit too quickly for it to seem right. The piano and strings again elevate the emotion and intensity of the track, and it does a great job of feeling so resonating and relatable while having such a personal subject matter.
On an album that is packed full of hardships and reactions an increasingly scary modern world, it feels fitting that it should end on a track that has a hopeful, optimistic glint to it, albeit one that was written around 18 years ago. The track explores some of Zora’s simple pleasures, from music and literature, to quiet moments, to romantic tenderness, and the gorgeously crafted nature of the instrumentation does an impeccable way of bringing all of these things to life in a way that feels both graceful and rewarding.
The album as a whole is packed full of important messages, ideas of solidarity, community, strength and struggle. It faces up to the realities of modern life and the profound impact that it can have on us all, while also looking towards love and the people around us as a reprieve, as shoulders to stand out and be heard, making for a release that weighs heavily and is packed full of challenges, but also has moments of hope and optimism that we can turn things around, or at least strive to make things more bearable for each other in the process of trying.
