Adore rip through toxicity and manipulation with blistering intensity on “Can We Talk”

The thing about a manipulative relationship is you often don’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. Sometimes, one day, you’ll come to. It’s like a switch turns off in your brain and you realize, “Wait a second, I’m being treated like shit. I shouldn’t have to deal with this.” Standing up for yourself in the face of the one who’s been actively knocking you down can go a multitude of ways. For Irish punk rock trio Adore, it looks like a reckoning purported by rage and a longing for a return to self.

Adore are transcending the Irish garage punk scene with their latest offering, “Can We Talk.” The track follows the single “Supermum!,” a racing, early 2000s-esque rock moment that dropped in September. The trio, made up of singer/guitarist Lara Minchin, bassist Lachlann Ó Fionnáin, and drummer Naoise Jordan Cavanagh, has etched out a spot among the rising noise groups from the Éire. “Can We Talk” exists from the point of view of one who’s been psychologically manipulated to the point where they’ve lost their sense of self, and are borderline begging for it back.

“Can We Talk” starts subdued, then rips into a massive head banger, following the path of someone finding their confidence as they continue to stand up to their abuser. Opening with spinning guitars and Minchin’s raspy, breathy vocals, Cavanagh’s drums enter with a snappy high hat that eventually explodes into full out cymbal smashing. The opening verse gradually quickens to break into the first chorus, following a pattern of bubbling anger and anxiety that eventually needs to be released. Drum fills entering and throughout the chorus propel the track forward with such grit and drive, making the core sound that much stronger.

The song’s almost-rushing pace matches the constant state of anxiety often found in manipulative relationships, evoking feelings of constantly looking over your shoulder or feeling like you’re being watched. The verse melody is eerie and hypnotic, especially on lines like “So I follow / Your rules” where Minchin lets out a chilling vocal run; the minor key leaves room for resolution, combining with the guttural vocal delivery to tug at something deep inside. Repeating lyrics in the second verse mirror the common cycle of abuse, hinting at the idea of staying in a bad situation because it seems harder and scarier to try to find a way out.

The hook, “unhand me," comes across as a formal, almost medieval way to ask for one’s freedom, mirroring the feeling of checking if it’s okay with your abuser before you leave them for your own good. In the spoken word bridge, Minchin finds her footing, declaring “Sometimes I think you want me dead / I’d be left in the hollows where I’d been led,” painting a picture of her partner luring her into the depths of her own anguish before leaving her there to fend for herself. The guitars in the bridge are scratchy and sharp, signifying a potential breakthrough. Minchin says the track mirrors a horror film, in that the danger and manipulation “present with small poltergeist acts: a glass is smashed, the dog keeps barking at seemingly nothing, until the force gains more and more power as it feeds from your livelihood. It’s only when it gets genuinely frightening that you realize that the threat has always been there.”