Album Review: CMAT - 'EURO-COUNTRY'
CMAT delivers an album that’s both a critique and a love-letter to Ireland as it brings country kicking and screaming into the European sphere.
The past two years since Crazymad have been big for CMAT – her explosion has taken her from Wide Awake in Brixton to Primavera Sound Barcelona, touring before Sam Fender; a nominee to the Mercury Prize, a Brit Award and the Choice Music Prize once again – going from a superstar in the making to a bonafide festival headliner before our eyes. The tight-rope that CMAT uses to balance where you came from, the impact of small country economics – and the evil of Teslas of course (Lord, Let that Tesla Crash is a song title if there ever was one and it’s so much more than what it suggests), it’s a multi-pronged album that feels worth getting back in the recording booth for despite a mammoth touring schedule that has culminated with a lengthy headline tour at venues like Ally Pally in 2026.
The title of the album, and the title of the first song; EURO-COUNTRY, is a mission statement. It’s an exploration of Ireland being a victim of capitalism, and a country that’s run by the Euro and part of the European union. The Irish language intro that has seen a resurgence of its popularity thanks to compatriots Kneecap, and CMAT opens by paying homage to her country in a way that’s “everything [she] thought that [she] could be”. It’s a verse about remorse, gaining weight, learning a lot from being in Ireland – but a lack of identity and processing that in who she is now; overcoming that and finding her own in the process.
Previously released singles fit seamlessly into the album and The Jamie Oliver Petrol Station feels like such a pop girl song that deserves to put her up there with the fame and fortune of your Sabrina Carpenters and Dua Lipas – and the fact that she hasn’t been considered a part of that sphere despite being one of the most talented artists around drives the lyrics of Take a Sexy Picture of Me. It shows aspirations and an objection to the need to fit into that sphere and the need for longing to be part of what’s popular. “Ever since I was a little, girl I only wanted to be sexy,” is knowingly directed at her more impressionistic fans, and the double standards of pop are held up to the spotlight in true CMAT style.
It’s witty and smart - the balance of comedy and tragedy run through this song like they do all her work – critiquing inappropriate sexualisation and not being afraid to call out the patriarchy in the process. CMAT had her appearance criticised when she first started performing at larger festivals and she’s kept that in mind for this album. This is her rallying cry against stereotype; and the need to conform. It’s powerful and politically charged – one of the best tracks of the year.
CMAT taps into her origins on Running/Planning, exploring her past and the whirlwind of her quick five-year timeframe that has led to fame. The societal pressure of being a woman are under the spotlight again and it creates a dreamy world instantly, feeling like it could fit in just as much as part of Crazymad, For Me as this new masterwork. “I’d call you my baby but it’d cause alarm… I’d call you my angel but you’ve done harm… I’m legging after you but you can’t turn back,” accepts the ability to make mistakes and run onto the next one.
As much as the title suggests a critique of Tesla, Lord Let that Tesla Crash is something more than that – what CMAT herself describes as one of the most tragic songs she’s ever written. It feels like that and will make you cry on a first listen that’s sure to go down a storm in the more emotional portions of any live set – like the whole album really, it’s a love letter to Jo, one of her collaborators who was the first person to tell Ciara that she was a talented songwriter - a mourning tribute asking that she’d give anything for his opinion on the newer songs that he wasn’t able to. In terms of emotional gut punches there are few bigger.
The final track Janis Joplining takes her to influence territory whilst When a Good Man Cries calls back to Stevie Nicks. “I’m a writer, I don’t do crushes, I do problematic attentions…[I do] a longing that I won’t act on.” Wrapping up the album it’s a look back and the thought of what has come before, exploring the lack of loss and the community – both a love letter to Ireland and a condemnation of it too, like “the most toxic boyfriend [she]s ever had”. It’s a perfect way to bookend one of the strongest albums of 2025 – a searingly honest indictment that flows seamlessly from one song to the next. Her comedy is one of her biggest strengths and it makes the tragically honest lyrics shine more.
Words by Miles Milton-Jefferies
