There’s something deeply profound about a hometown show, especially in a venue like Vicar Street, where intimacy and scale converge so effortlessly. For Pillow Queens, this performance felt like more than a gig—it was a communal celebration of the personal, the political, and the deeply human.
Bathed in darkness punctuated by brilliant white strobe lights, the set opened with a gorgeous snippet of ‘She Moved Through The Fair’ courtesy of lead guitarist Cathy McGuinness, giving way to the understated pop rock of ‘Suffer,’ its slow build drawing the audience into a hushed reverence. As the room fell under the spell of their harmonies, the song’s ache set the tone for an evening steeped in emotional resonance. The band leaned heavily on tracks from their latest album, Name Your Sorrow, and while the record thrives in its emotional intelligence, its live translation brought a new kind of ferocity. It was a welcome choice – the band’s latest LP is arguably their best to date, and their admirers screamed in excitement as each new track was introduced.
Tracks like ‘Like a Lesson’ hit with a visceral power, the driving rhythm section grounding the band’s melodic flourishes. It was these moments—when melancholy intertwined with raw energy—that Pillow Queens’ artistry shone brightest. Even older songs like the breakout anthem ‘Favourite’ felt reinvigorated, as though they’d been reimagined through the lens of the band’s growth.
What sets Pillow Queens apart is their ability to oscillate between the deeply personal and the universal. Nowhere was this more evident than during encore opener ‘Donaghmede,’ a song stripped of fanfare but heavy with weight. With the room bathed in soft light, the band delivered a performance so intimate it bordered on sacred, with co-lead vocalist Pamela Connolly performing the first half of the song as a solo piece. There was no need for theatrics—the emotion in the room was the spectacle.
Despite the heavy themes, the band’s warmth and humour shone between songs. Their banter was unpolished and earnest, grounding the evening in a sense of familiarity. “Where’s my mam?” Pamela asked before the ladies launched into the grunge-influenced ‘Gone’. “I can see all of your faces so clearly. It’s really lovely but it’s also really disorientating!” Sarah Corcoran would confess just before perennial fan favourite ‘Gay Girls’. These moments reminded us that Pillow Queens are not just performers or storytellers, but regular, relatable people whose music comes from a place of lived experience.
That being said, one can’t help but admire just how far they’ve come as performers and professionals. The setlist was carefully and deliberately paced, Pamela’s lead vocal tracks giving way to Sarah’s in the set’s mid-section, and back again. On breakout track ‘Rats’, the band would let the crowd sing the refrain during the vocals only part. During the band’s encore they would reveal they respectfully declined an opportunity to tour with Crowded House in Australia before dedicating a fuzzed out rendition of ‘Don’t Dream (It’s Over)’ to them.
The night closed with ‘Liffey,’ its final notes bringing the crowd to a crescendo, voices unified in celebration. And then, just as quickly as it began, it was over, leaving behind an electric sense of collective catharsis.
Pillow Queens don’t just play music—they craft moments that linger. In a venue as storied as Vicar Street, they created an experience that felt timeless, a perfect marriage of sound, space, and sentiment.
