Tour Stop: Hozier
Photos By Emma Schwichtenberg
By Emma Schwichtenberg
Over the weekend, Irish artist Andrew John Hozier-Byrne, known best as Hozier, returned to Washington, pouring his blues, soul, and indie rock into the wild embrace of the Gorge amphitheater.
Here, his music swept across the rugged landscape like a river carving its path through ancient stone, reverberating between the cliffs and the stars.
Though the concert took place in the last days of summer, the day itself burned in the scorching heart of central Washington. Concertgoers lined up at the gates, eager for the evening to come alive. I was among those camping, arriving on-site hours before the first note was set to ring out.
As we gathered on the grassy slope of the amphitheater, looking out onto the breathtaking expanse of the Gorge, where the Columbia River snakes between towering rock faces, the sun began its descent. With each passing moment, as the sky melted into hues of gold and amber, the excitement swelled, and the field filled with a hum of anticipation.
The opener for the show was Allison Russell, a Canadian singer-songwriter and musician who won a Grammy Award for Best American Roots Performance in 2023. She sings a duet with Hozier on his song "Wildflower and Barley," and has been a special guest on many of his tour dates over the past year.
Early on, she displayed her versatility, moving effortlessly between flute and banjo for songs like "Springtime" from her latest album, The Returner, a personal favorite of mine. As she played the crowd was drawn into her orbit, you could see people swaying to her voice as the sun began to set, lighting up the gorge behind her. Her nearly 40-minute set was woven with messages of inclusivity, welcoming fans of every background and orientation into a shared space of music and unity.
Hozier's set began later than planned, delayed by traffic on a partially closed bridge that left many concert goers scrambling to arrive on time. By the time he finally took the stage, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving only the glow of the stage lights to silhouette him as he began to sing.
He opened with "De Selby (Part 1)" and "De Selby (Part 2)," the haunting introductory tracks from his latest album, Unreal Unearth. The songs, steeped in the imagery of Dante's Inferno, trace a descent into Hell, setting the tone for an album that dives deep into themes of darkness and reckoning.
The set itself stretched to about two hours. While I can’t take you through every song, I can share a few of my favorites.
“Jackie and Wilson” was the third song of the night, just as it is on Hozier’s debut album, Hozier. Named after the legendary soul singer Jackie Wilson, the song captures the idea of love as a rebellious act—not against the person you love, but against the world itself. When Hozier sings it live, that defiant spirit pulses through every note. The crowd belts out the lyrics, as if daring the darkness surrounding us, making it feel like it’s just you and Hozier, declaring these words of freedom into the night.
“Eat Your Young” came next as the fifth song on the setlist. The title nods to Jonathan Swift’s satirical essay, A Modest Proposal, which shockingly suggests the Irish could alleviate poverty by selling their children as food for the wealthy. Hozier’s song mirrors this dark satire while also representing the third circle of Hell from Dante’s Inferno: gluttony. It speaks to a hunger for more than what we’re given, a craving that is raw and unapologetic. Performed live, the song takes on a fiercer edge, more aggressive and visceral than its studio version, reverberating through the crowd like a call to consume, to demand, to want.
Perhaps my favorite Hozier song, "Like Real People Do," was the seventh song of the night. When it began, I found myself stopping in my tracks, completely overtaken by the music. The song, from Hozier's debut album, draws inspiration from Seamus Heaney's poem "The Tollund Man." Heaney, regarded as one of the greatest contemporary Irish poets, explores the voice of a bog man who is unearthed by his future lover. Both the song and poem echo with a haunting beauty, telling a tale of unexpected discovery and the desire to love and be loved "like real people do."
“Why were you digging, what did you bury, before those hands pulled me from the earth."
He longs to be with her "like real people," craving a connection that transcends the oddity of his origins. I like to think there's a deeper layer of personal history and hidden wounds where the lover is concerned.
"I would not ask you why you were creeping, in some sad way I already know.”
It invites you to imagine the forces that led them to dig into the earth and ultimately fall in love with what they discovered buried beneath.
When I hear the song at home, I can't help but melt into the music, but hearing it live was something else entirely—I thought I might cry, and it wouldn’t be the last time that feeling swept over me that night. It’s a sensation that almost escapes words. All I can suggest is to listen to the song yourself, in the stillness of a dark night, and close your eyes. Let it carry you to a place where language falls away.
The song was followed by "Francesca" from Unreal Unearth—the one that actually brought me to tears. It’s inspired by the Second Circle of Hell: Lust. The tale goes like this:
As Dante and Virgil descend into Hell, they encounter the Circle of the Lustful, where souls who surrendered to their desires are trapped in an endless storm, tossed about just as they were by their passions in life. Here, they meet Francesca and Paolo, two souls forever bound together by their forbidden love. Francesca, trapped in a loveless, arranged marriage to Giovanni Malatesta, falls for his younger brother, Paolo. One day, while reading the story of Lancelot and Guinevere—a tale of forbidden love—they surrender to their own feelings. When Giovanni discovers their affair, he kills them both in a rage.
There’s a line in the song that seems to capture everyone's heart:
“If someone asked me at the end, I'll tell them put me back in it. If I could hold you for a minute, I'd go through it again.”
I don't know; it just gives me chills. And you could feel the audience resonating with it—their voices rising louder, more passionately, for that line than any other in the song.
The block of this concert was the best, and the slowest part of the set, moving directly into “I, Carrion (Icarian),” the story of Icarrus from Unreal Unearth. The song reimagines the Greek myth of Icarus as a love song. The song envisions Icarus so consumed by love that he is oblivious to his impending doom. The speaker in the song is indifferent to his fall, as long as his beloved is by his side.
Allison Russell returned for Hozier’s eleventh song of the night, "Wildflower and Barley." Although the track from his new album had never been one of my favorites, hearing it performed live with Russell brought a new depth to the song. Featured on Unheard, the first of two EPs released since Unreal Unearth, the song was crafted during the Covid pandemic while Hozier was living in the Irish countryside. It captures a profound sense of longing and desire for renewal. Watching them perform together, that yearning became even more palpable—the breaks in their voices and the breaths between lyrics made the emotion feel tangible.
Of course I couldn’t finish writing this set list without mentioning Hozier’s now most popular song, “Too Sweet.”
In “Too Sweet,” Hozier contrasts two lifestyles: one of indulgence and simplicity—enjoying whiskey, coffee, and late nights without concern for societal norms—and another of discipline and health, represented by a partner who promotes a more structured, early-rising lifestyle.
Drawing from the 3rd Circle of Hell, Gluttony, as in his track “Eat Your Young,” Hozier explores themes of excess and overindulgence. This echoes Dante’s view of gluttony as not just overconsumption of food and drink, but excessive indulgence in any pleasure that hinders spiritual growth.
The song has been on constant rotation since its March release, a song that wasn’t even on his album but on his EP Unheard. Hozier took a moment on stage to express his gratitude, acknowledging the support that has brought him to where he is today.
He closed the concert with "Take Me to Church," the hit from his debut album. While Hozier's lyrics can sometimes be challenging to decipher, it was clear that the audience knew this one well. For many, including myself, it was the song that introduced us to this artist and brought us to this concert. Hozier often let the crowd take over the vocals, and as the song faded out, he bowed and left the stage to a standing ovation that lasted for minutes.
As the stage went dark and the crowd’s applause continued to echo, cries for an encore—some from me—filled the air. After several minutes, Hozier returned, guitar in hand, and took center stage to begin his four-song encore.
He started with an acoustic rendition of "Cherry Wine," one of my favorites (though, by now, you might notice they’re all my favorites). The song delves into an emotionally and physically abusive relationship, with the victim romanticizing and justifying their suffering due to their profound attachment to the abuser. Despite its dark themes, the song’s tone and poetic lyrics make it sound like a pure love ballad.
His final two songs, "Nina Cried Power" and "Work Song," were the real showstoppers of the night. Before performing "Nina Cried Power," a tribute to the legacy and impact of protest, he took a moment to speak about the importance of activism. He talked about the right to vote, reproductive rights, the freedom to love whom you choose, and drew parallels between the ongoing conflict in Palestine with Ireland's own history of civil rights struggles. He described the song as a celebration of a revolution grounded in kindness, love, and goodwill — a speech he has given at every concert during his tour.
For the final song of the night, Allison Russell returned to the stage, and together they performed "Work Song," a track about addiction. Hozier explained that the song is meant to capture how addiction begins subtly and then takes hold, overwhelming you in its grip.
As the concert drew to a close, every member of the stage had been introduced. For the final song, Hozier and his band gathered at center stage, taking a bow together in front of the crowd of 20,000.
As he left the stage applause rang out once more and the stadium lights turned on, and everyone faced reality once more. Listening to Hozier is an almost otherworldly experience that leaves you with the same withdrawal many of his songs detail in a way. Some in the crowd took it as their opportunity to roll down the hill, I took it as a chance to walk the 20 minutes back to my campsite, lost in awe of the Gorge’s timeless beauty and the transcendent experience that had graced its sacred expanse.
