Dea Matrona - Hate That I Care | ALBUM REVIEW
- Charis Lydia Bagioki
- Jun 4
- 3 min read
The first time that I saw Dea Matrona live was in 2024, buried somewhere in the lower reaches of Tottenham Court Road. Within the first twenty minutes, other than a sold-out venue, it was obvious that Belfast duo Mollie McGinn and Orláith Forsythe belong to the future festival headliner category. Whilst much of contemporary rock has spent the past decade either apologising for existing or disappearing into more algorithm-friendly genre soup, Dea Matrona strode on stage with the confidence of a band that had spent years earning every inch of ground the hard way.
Their confidence is not manufactured, but it is forged busking in the streets of Belfast after meeting as competitors in an Irish-language singing contest. Their origin story somehow feels both charmingly wholesome and oddly fitting; even where there is an element of rivalry, ambition and determination at the heart of their partnership. Nearly a decade later, that DIY ethic remains central to who they are and what kind of music they make. They have built their audience gig by gig, funded their own releases and landed a chart-topping independent debut with For Your Sins, played Glastonbury, supported The Beached and are now preparing to tour with *Sting*. Not bad for two musicians who started out performing for passing pedestrians.
But let’s get into it. If For Your Sins was a coming-of-age record, Hate That I Care feels like the moment Dea Matrona stop introducing themselves and start telling you exactly what they think without filler. The album’s title track immediately signals that shift. The music and lyrics do not dwell solely on romance, they explore isolation, self-doubt and the uncomfortable search for authenticity. Intrigued by it? Feeling seen? Good! The title itself captures a contradiction that runs through all of us, and through the entire record: it is about caring deeply whilst simultaneously resenting the emotional cost of doing so. Cynicism is back in fashion.
Musically, Dea Matrona continue to blend classic and contemporary rock. The DNA of bands like Fleetwood Mac and Arctic Monkeys is still present in the melodic and vocal parts of their songs, whilst some moments are taken over by echoes of The Cranberries. At the same time, their Irish identity is always running through in the background. Unlike many bands mimicking the 70s, Dea Matrona understand the influence and use it as a foundation. Tracks like “My Own Party” ease the listener into themes like imposter syndrome, whilst “A Rebel Song” (one of my favourites on the album) make a bold statement on Irish history and the ongoing humanitarian crisis in Palestine. Being a bold political statement, a song like that could feel performative but instead it emerges from genuine anger and conviction which makes it even more impactful.
The same seriousness runs through “Aisling”, and “John Doe”. The two songs sound very similar but tackle completely different emotions; the former is about mental health struggles, which demonstrates the musical maturity of the duo in song writing, whilst the latter confronts secrecy, shame and historical injustices facing Irish women. Going straight into “WAIT”, there is frustration and much more groove and energy. Fortunately, Hate That I Care is not all about existential dread. “Magic Spell” and “Summer Rain” provide some of the album’s most seductive moments, with hazy melodies and sultry vocals. The guitars are also more melodic, the backing vocals add depth and layers to the song, and they show that Dea Matrona have range in their music and can create songs that capture a wide array of musical influences and cater to multiple crowds.
Ending the album with “Siren Song” and “Told U I’m Strange”, the full circle of the lyrical themes closes off joyfully. What started off as anxiety and wrestling with identity, Dea Matrona end by embracing it. What makes Hate That I Care such an impressive second album is that it expands on the band’s worldview without leaving behind the qualities that made them what they are as a band. There are still harmonies, riffs, swagger, chemistry and rage in the album, but there are also mellow sounds, classic rock influences and the kind of laid-back feeling you only get when you know your purpose as a musician. Many bands spend years trying to discover who they are. Yet, with this album, Dea Matrona sound like they know exactly who they are and they no longer care whether everyone else approves.
