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Ólafur Arnalds + Talos – A Dawning Album out now

Image for the post Ólafur Arnalds + Talos – A Dawning Album out now.
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Photo Credit: Brid O’Donavan

A Dawning‘ is a poetic, observational film built around a series of living tableaus that trace connection, presence, and quiet resilience from West Cork to Reykjavík and the surrounding areas – told through real people, real places, their memories, celebrations and the slow transformation that follows loss. It is a celebration of life and the things that make it worth living.

Director: Niall O’Brien Producer: Steve Battle

Full biography and the story of how Ólafur and Eoin worked together on the album

A Dawning 2025 biog, Talos and Ólafur Arnalds

When we feel as though we might drown under the waves of our grief, there is music. On A Dawning, the astounding album from Icelandic composer Ólafur Arnalds and the late Irish artist Eoin French – known to many as Talos – music becomes a raft to keep us afloat in those dark, seemingly fathomless waters, guiding us towards a glimmer of light on the horizon. For both artists, this record serves as the apotheosis of their creative talents, two brilliant minds revelling in their shared love of music.

It is abundantly clear that French found a kind of freedom in the music he and Arnalds made together, while Arnalds relished the fresh challenge of working with someone new. On “Signs”, French’s voice shifts and morphs in unexpected ways, moving instinctively rather than following predictable patterns – a reminder of his masterful approach to composing.

“It sounds a little bit different from the other songs on the record because we were still trying to figure out what we were doing – what direction we were going to take,” Arnalds says.

We hear this in the stutter of the drums, the chopped vocal samples and improvisational quality, allowing us to sink into the song and be transported.

French and Arnalds met just before their residency at Sounds from a Safe Harbour Festival in Cork, in 2023. “We instantly felt a very strong musical connection, and composed a few songs that ended up on the album,” Arnalds recalls.

The pair were natural collaborators: “It brings a certain ease to things when you’re working with other people, because when you’re alone in it, you tend to suffer quite a lot,” Arnalds says. “Bringing other people feels familial, and maybe more related to the origins of what music was, what music has always been.”

French later visited Arnalds’ studio in Reykjavík, where they realised they wanted to work on a full-length project. Devastatingly, French became ill during his stay and was admitted to hospital; too unwell to travel, he stayed with Arnalds and his wife, Indonesian-Filipino artist Sandrayati for a few weeks while receiving treatment.

“It brought us together like nothing else can, living there with our partners and being so deeply embedded in all of this,” Arnalds says.

“It put everything into perspective and we realised that we needed to finish this album, because we had something to tell.”

Lead single “We Didn’t Know We Were Ready”, featuring Niamh Regan and Ye Vagabonds with a choir of friends, begins with hushed, reverential piano notes before French starts to sing: “How did we doubt the evening sun?/ We didn’t know we were ready.”

As he is joined in harmony, strings glide in like swans on a still lake. In one moment, his voice disappears, and Regan and Ye Vagabonds take the lead, before he returns: “What if the silence said it?” Each vocal cascades over the other, growing louder then falling away again. It’s a beautiful work, one in which raw grief mingles with acceptance, and closes with a profound quiet.

When French eventually returned to Ireland, Arnalds began visiting him at his home in West Cork where they continued writing new songs.

“Slowly, the music became more and more serious – you knew the lyrics were poignant, and it started to feel like we were onto something really special.”

Arnalds describes their friendship as a perfect match: “I don’t think we even spoke that much, we could hang out for a whole evening and maybe say three words.”

This only changed towards the very end, when it became clear that French had little time left: “We started going through the album in a more organised way, working out how to finish it and what was important to him.”

A Dawning opens on “Shared Time”. Snatches of conversation are caught between strange murmurations of sound, as though preserved in amber that appears like warm honey when held to the sun.

“We both knew that I would have to finish parts of this record without him, but it was still our music, so Eoin suggested I go through his phone to find something there,” Arnalds says.

“‘Shared Time’ is the result of that idea, prefacing the record with thoughts on the importance of family and community. In a way it felt symbolic of my purpose, of keeping his creativity alive.”.

“We made this album together,” Arnalds says.Even after, while I was there working on some arrangements, I never felt like I was truly alone. Near the end, where we saying how grateful we were to have met each other, he told me, “One day you’ll be sitting at the piano and suddenly get an idea, and you’ll know that’s me.”’

A Dawning is testament to those eternal bonds forged through music, a lasting monument to French’s incredible legacy, and the wonderful friendship that he and Arnalds shared.