You might know McMorrow from his preternatural ability to turn obnoxious pop songs you loathe to remember into delicate and ruminant soul-folk hits. On his most recognizable cover, he displaces Steve Winwood’s bombast, McMorrow asks for a “Higher Love” from a place of longing and desperation but never brings audiences down with him. Taking cues from the greats of classic soul, his quiet voice and Irish lilt perfectly contrast the authentically-worn soulful affectation. His musical perspective speaks the loudest emotions of sadness and longing through quietude, contemplation but also rhythm and melody.

On his latest album Wild open, horses he imagines being lost in wild open spaces; endless opportunities with few clear directives. Part of a loose trilogy, he embraces the album format as a long-form piece of musical media to express the nuances of an idea through time just as much as he can reframe a pop song in three and a half minutes. Live, this is expressed through building rhythm and musical momentum as his dynamic rock ensemble builds moments of climax, and releases us back into the experience of McMorrow’s voice and words.

Self-producing since the beginning of his career, McMorrow has found a pathway through the maximalism of pop, the experimentation of indie and the sparseness of folk. Come for the singular falsetto, stay for the pastoral journey into selfhood.

— Liam Prost