Dean: Burglar put their own spin on Generation X mimicry

“Their songs are a veritable Lollapalooza of unflashy guitar play, stark aesthetics, gentle melodies, interlocking guy-girl vocal harmonies, and the spirit of Fugazi.”

Dean: Burglar put their own spin on Generation X mimicry
Burglar. Photo by John Harding.

Who are Burglar robbing from exactly? The band’s music is so steeped in nostalgia, so enthralled with the sounds of a bygone era, that any of 1,000 artists are possible victims.

Neither member is old enough to recall the 1990s – they may not, in fact, have been alive, as we know that the pair met as students in Trinity College just five years ago. But Burglar’s ethos is heavily reminiscent of America’s much-lionised post-Cold War, pre-Y2K indie rock, grunge and post-hardcore music. This is mimicry that rings with authenticity – there is something here that’s impossible to fake.

Here’s the story: Burglar are Willow Hannon, daughter of The Divine Comedy frontman Neil Hannon, and Eduardo Pinheiro, who draws inspiration from the punk-rock paradise that is his hometown of Goiânia, Brazil, a city of 1.5 million people noted for its DIY music ingenuity and home of its own punk music festival.

​​It’s the perfect origin tale for a daring culture clash of disparate instruments, sounds and ideas, right? Well, forget all that. Hannon and Pinheiro are united over a mutual appreciation of touchpoint ’90s bands such as Smashing Pumpkins and Stereolab. Their songs are a veritable Lollapalooza of unflashy guitar play, stark aesthetics, gentle melodies, interlocking guy-girl vocal harmonies, and the spirit of Fugazi.  

It’s reasonable to say that Burglar did not arrive on the scene fully formed. Released in 2023, early single “Comeback” is a heavy, droning number that sounds forged in searing heat by industrial steelworkers. Yet through the murk and sweat, there are moments when Hannon and Pinheiro’s twin vocal harmonies achieve an ethereal beauty. Back-in-the-day sentimentality is all well and good, but it’s in these moments, when their paired voices circle and coil in unexpected ways, that Burglar sound like something distinct from the forebearers they bow down to.

Ditching the more chugging arrangements, Hannon and Pinheiro’s songcraft has progressed into something both elegant and complex. Their arrangements simply never stay still. Chicken-scratch licks and obscene amounts of power chording live in perfect harmony; melodic sensibility is married to barbed-wire punk aggression.

Hannon and Pinheiro sometimes sing side-by-side, like a classic folk duo sharing the same mic. But often one will take the lead, letting their voice drop out to allow the other to step forward. More than just the placement of the vocals, it’s the duelling personalities of the singers that also works so well. Pinheiro has the aura of the interesting aloof kid sitting at the back of class, while Hannon’s falsetto is a more haunting tone. This is a chemistry that cannot be trained.

Burglar often favor the quiet-to-loud outline closely associated with grunge music. Take the single “Nobody Needs to Know You’re Desperate”: chipped guitar chords build towards big, tuneful crescendos. The band wisely play on their collegiate beginnings by capturing the emotional haze of a party. It’s a song about that time of the night when excitement has melted away into hurt feelings and inflated melancholy, symptoms of barely being a grown-up. “Go figure, go figure out/ I’m tired, I’m also kinda lost,” sings Pinheiro in an appropriately placid tone.

A fuller picture of the band’s developing artistry arrived last year with Unlucky, an addictive four-song EP featuring guests Cormac Nugent on bass and Harry Loftus on drums, and released with artwork that gloriously invokes dirtbag Gen-X aesthetic. Once more, new elements are added to the Burglar sound: The hushed guitar lines of the exceptional “Mousetrap” are matched with a delicate, spooky little riff that sounds as though it’s emanating from an antique analogue synth. It’s music that suggests the cosmos as not as a sci-fi wonderland, but a cold and mysterious void. That is, until the band blast everything else away with a mighty smash-n-pummel rhythm.

Similarly, “Fate Fades” stacks the guitar lines into a mighty roar, while “Washing Machines” is a more downtrodden lament until once more the loudness is allowed into the room. Meanwhile, the signature two-part vocal sections are deployed most interestingly on “No Easy Way”, as both members sing different lyrics right on top of each other without remotely sounding in conflict.

Latest single “Lovey”, released in January, is more upbeat – Burglar’s first single that really sounds like a classic A-side. This is the more vibey side of youth, music for lengthy summers with few distractions, nothing to do but get drunk in the afternoon sun. It invites songwriting that’s a little more playful, including a wry dig at people with a tendency to overshare: “Is there even talk of TMI in 2025?” they pair ask, their vocals once more in tandem.

I imagine “Lovey” will appear on a debut album slated for release in October. There’s no Irish LP scheduled for 2026 that I’m more excited about.

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