Connor McCann’s “At the End of All Things” emerges as a haunting testament to survival in a fractured world. Released February 28th as the lead single from his forthcoming EP “After The End” (due March 28th), the track cements the Belfast artist’s reputation as one of Ireland’s most distinctive songwriting voices. Drawing its title from Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings,” this four-minute composition balances gossamer delicacy with quiet defiance, creating a sonic landscape both expansive and intimate.
Following his acclaimed debut album “Without Wax” and the emotive power of singles like “Cold Letters,” McCann has steadily carved out a unique space within Belfast’s folk scene. What distinguishes his work is not merely technical proficiency but unflinching authenticity – a willingness to confront discomfort with clear eyes and steady hands.
“At the End of All Things” functions as a lockdown ballad, examining the disorienting aftermath of collective trauma. The arrangement, featuring strings by Solstice Ribiensky Bihler and Zarah Fleming alongside horns by Johnny Stewart, Hannah Bevan Woolley, and Mark Hamilton, cradles McCann’s vocals without overwhelming them. His band, The Heroine Choir, provides essential texture and depth, transforming what could be solitary reflection into communal experience.
The forthcoming EP expands these explorations across three tracks – “Is This It,” “Elegant Dream,” and the aforementioned single – each examining different facets of survival and reckoning. From the public dissolution of a relationship in “Elegant Dream” to the existential questioning of “Is This It,” McCann refuses easy narratives or neat resolutions.
Accompanied by a visually striking video shot on Belfast’s Black Mountain, the release is firmly rooted in geographical and cultural context while speaking to universal human experiences. As McCann himself reflects, “I survived and so did you, we have so much to do and so little time, but I’m also skint. There’s work on Monday and the match starts at 3.” In this juxtaposition of the profound and mundane lies the true power of his artistry – reminding us that apocalypses, personal and collective, are not endpoints but transitions.
