When the word “hangdog” comes up, it might conjure images of Paul Giamatti’s doleful gaze or Lee Hazlewood’s legendary moustache. But for a growing international audience, it’s increasingly synonymous with Ciara Mary-Alice Thompson—better known as CMAT—whose bittersweet balladry and camp sensibility have made her a standout in contemporary pop. On September 1, 2025, CMAT released her third album, Euro-Country, via AWAL Recordings, marking a milestone in her already remarkable career. Riding high from a barnstorming Glastonbury performance earlier in the year, CMAT’s latest work cements her reputation as a singular force in music, blending Irish roots with a fresh, genre-bending take on country-pop.
Unlike many of her Irish contemporaries—Fontaines DC, Kneecap, For Those I Love—who are carving out distinctive spaces in rock, rave-rap, and spoken word, CMAT has charted her own lane. According to Double J, she’s found a home in “Euro-Country,” a term that’s both the title of her new album and a playful nod to her musical evolution. The record is a tapestry of fiddles, pedal steel, twangy guitars, and even kosmische piano, underpinning songs that oscillate between heartbreak and humor. It’s a sound that’s as much at home in a smoky cabaret as it is on the windswept plains of the American Midwest—or the bustling streets of Dublin.
But don’t be fooled by the album’s kitschy title or glimmering melodies. Euro-Country is steeped in serious themes, exploring personal turmoil, the devastating 2008 collapse of Ireland’s Celtic Tiger economy, and the grinding pressures of societal expectation. As CMAT herself explained to Joyzine, “The album title works on three levels: the kind of country music I make, the fact that Ireland is a European country, a country run by the euro, and capitalism is one of the worst things to ever happen to us.” That’s a lot to pack into a pop record, but CMAT pulls it off with a deft touch, often cloaking her sharpest commentary in sparkling, campy arrangements.
The album opens with its title track, which launches into an Irish-language verse before blossoming into a sweeping ode to the home CMAT left behind to pursue music. Over a swooning pedal steel, she draws a poignant line between her own emotional upheaval and the shattering aftermath of Ireland’s economic boom and bust. “I was twelve when the Das started killing themselves all around me,” she sings, blending dejection and anger as she critiques former Prime Minister Bertie Ahern and the tragic impact on families. It’s a theme that recurs throughout the record, with CMAT’s Irish accent shining through the plaintive vocals and expressive keening that have become her trademark.
Her willingness to color outside genre lines is evident in both the musical and lyrical diversity of the album. Produced by Oli Deakin, Euro-Country is, in CMAT’s words, her “most country record, as in, steeped in the tradition of country,” but it’s also unafraid to innovate. Tracks like “When A Good Man Cries” paste the wounded scrape of a trad-folk fiddle onto a Nashville skyline, while “The Jamie Oliver Petrol Station” veers into krautrock crunch. The latter track sees CMAT hilariously dissecting her irrational dislike of the celebrity chef—whose name graces motorway delis across the UK—as a symptom of broader cultural malaise. “Okay, don’t be a bitch / the man’s got kids,” she admonishes herself, using humor as a gateway to self-reflection.
Perhaps the album’s most infectious single, “Take a Sexy Picture of Me,” is a razor-sharp retort to toxic commentary about women’s bodies. According to Joyzine, the song is “a pin-sharp commentary on the double-edged infantilisation and validation sold to women through mass media sexualisation.” CMAT herself describes it as “me calling out anyone who criticised my weight or how I looked.” The song’s easy-listening arrangement and abundant hooks mask a darker undercurrent, making it as much a feminist anthem as it is a pop banger. “It glistens in both its soulful chorus and razor-sharp lyrical insights on the unhealthy pressures forcing women to seek validation,” Double J noted in their review.
“Running/Planning” continues the album’s exploration of societal expectations, with Thompson describing it as “an abstracted view of societal pressure on women… everything has to follow this linear pattern.” The song’s soaring vocals channel both bliss and ennui, capturing the anxiety of not fitting into prescribed life paths. It’s a theme that feels universal, yet deeply personal in CMAT’s hands, echoing the likes of Talking Heads’ “Once in a Lifetime” but with a blunt diagnosis of why such conformity persists: “the minute you don’t follow that path, your mam starts giving out to you.”
But Euro-Country isn’t all angst and self-critique. There’s genuine tragedy, too, as in “Lord, Let That Tesla Crash,” a mid-tempo ballad mourning the sudden loss of a close friend and collaborator. The song opens with CMAT poking fun at her Dublin accent—“I heard death comes in threes / I misheard it bein’ from Dublin I thought ‘death’s in the trees’ / Which makes sense cuz they’re the saddest c**ts of plants I have seen”—before slowly giving way to some of her most open, affecting lyrics yet. The blend of humor and heartbreak is quintessential CMAT, offering catharsis without ever descending into self-pity.
The album’s lighter moments are no less affecting. “Tree Six Foive” is a communal piano singalong that burns with togetherness, while the half-rapped “Ready” bridges modern pop and timeless soul, standing as a monument to hope amid doubt and fear. The closing track, “Janis Joplining,” rounds off the album with one last cry for connection, its barroom piano and alt-rock cadence collapsing into grand theatricality and a dreamy, 80s-inspired coda. As Joyzine put it, “Euro-Country leaves a bright, clear afterglow.”
CMAT’s appeal lies not just in her musical innovation, but in her ability to make listeners feel seen. Her lyrics are laced with wit, her melodies with warmth, and her performances—whether at Glastonbury or on tour this fall—with a campy charisma that’s impossible to resist. As Double J observed, she’s “a minty fresh reminder of how pop music rich in personality is always better than generic tunes made by committee.”
In a year where so much pop music feels alienating, Euro-Country is a big-hearted epic that welcomes everyone as citizens. CMAT’s third album isn’t just a triumph for Irish music; it’s a testament to the power of vulnerability, humor, and a good old-fashioned singalong. After giving this record a spin, you might just find yourself a citizen of Euro-Country too.
