The Raw Irish Folk-Rock Masterpiece that You’ve Likely Never Heard!

Flashback Friday: Fitzcarraldo by the Frames

Jun 05, 2026

Originally released in November 1995, Fitzcarraldo stands as a pivotal, if tumultuous, chapter in the history of the Irish band The Frames. At the time of its creation, the band—performing under the moniker The Frames DC to avoid legal confusion with an American group of the same name—was at a crossroads. Following their debut Another Love Song (1992), the band was hungry for international success and caught in the orbit of ZTT Records, a label that, for better AND worse, exerted significant creative control over their output.

Also, the album’s rollout was famously bumpy… After an initial 1995 release, the band worked with producer Trevor Horn to refine the sound for a June 1st, 1996 re-release. This second version captured the band’s ambition more clearly, polishing the production without stripping away the grit that made them special.

While Fitzcarraldo didn’t result in overnight mainstream fame, it served as a declaration of intent and built a foundation, proving that The Frames could command a room with intensity and honesty, establishing the cult following and artistic independence that would define their career for years to come. For fans and the band alike, it is remembered as the record that truly solidified the group’s identity. It captured a raw tension, most notably in the track “Revelate,” where Glen Hansard’s performance moves from a near-whisper to a powerhouse vocal, embodying the band’s signature blend of vulnerability and intensity.

The mid-90s was a challenging time for a band like The Frames. The airwaves were crowded with the massive global reach of Britpop and the tail-end of the grunge explosion. While many peers were chasing catchy hooks and radio play, The Frames were doubling down on lengthy tracks that built intensity over time, prioritizing emotional payoff over instant gratification.

Within Ireland, they were evolving away from the “Celtic rock” sound that had previously defined much of the national output, positioning themselves instead within a more earnest, singer-songwriter-adjacent space that would later be championed by artists like David Gray.

The album’s title itself—a nod to Werner Herzog’s 1982 film about a man obsessed with pulling a steamship over a mountain in the Amazon—served as a fitting metaphor for the band’s own career: a display of immense ambition and the determination to overcome insurmountable odds in the music industry.

The recording of Fitzcarraldo was a collaborative effort involving several key members of that era’s iteration of the band. Frontman and creative anchor, Glen Hansard, whose ability to hold back tension and then unleash it became the emotional centerpiece of the album. Violinist and keyboardist, Colm Mac Con Iomaire, whose distinct instrumental contributions added a lush, folk-inflected texture helped further differentiate The Frames from their contemporaries (specifically reducing the frequency of comparison to another little Irish rock band called U2).

While it did not immediately launch them to the stadium-filling status they aspired to, Fitzcarraldo became a beloved, essential document in their catalog. It is often viewed as the “hard-earned” masterpiece that preceded their even more celebrated work, such as Dance the Devil (1999). Today, it is regarded not just as a collection of great songs, but as a landmark in the Irish rock canon—a testament to a band that survived the “hard way” to influence generations of Irish musicians that followed.

Speaking of those great songs, Fitzcarraldo is a dense and emotional record, defined by its struggle between raw intensity and the polished production of the era. Here are the songs that defined the album’s legacy:

Revelate
The album opener is widely considered the cornerstone of the band’s catalog. It serves as a fine example of how to build tension by consistent raising and lowering dynamic intensity. The song features quieter, more reflecting verses, before erupting into one of the most cathartic, high-energy choruses of the 1990s. Its lyrics about movement, urgency, and the necessity of “revelation” captured the band’s frantic, forward-moving spirit at the time.
Angel at My Table
This track displays a softer, almost folk-infused melodic sensibility. It highlights the band’s ability to layer textures, blending delicate instrumentation with subtle, moody arrangements. It was one of the tracks that helped pivot the band away from the more generic indie-rock of the early 90s, pointing toward the more nuanced, character-driven songwriting that would define their later work.
Fitzcarraldo
The title track is a sprawling, 6 minute, atmospheric piece that justifies the album’s name. It leans into a cinematic quality, with sweeping violin lines and a mid-tempo drive that feels like a long, arduous journey. It is a brooding track that highlights Colm Mac Con Iomaire’s influence, showcasing the band’s willingness to move away from standard rock structures toward something more expansive. Paul “Binzer” Brennan’s intricate drumming and musical interplay with bassist Graham Downey also stands out on this track.
Say It To Me Now
While it appears as a standout moment for the band’s emotional range, this track is a quintessential example of their “whisper-to-a-scream” dynamic. It captures a raw, confrontational honesty that would become a staple of Hansard’s songwriting. It is a sparse, urgent track that strips away the production gloss to reveal the core of the band’s artistic intent.

While Glen Hansard’s career is defined by a deep, unwavering commitment to music, it is punctuated by two major cinematic milestones that brought him global recognition without ever fully eclipsing his identity as a musician.

In 1991, Hansard’s first major brush with fame came through his role as the guitarist “Outspan” Foster in Alan Parker’s The Commitments. His involvement was somewhat serendipitous; he was cast after an audition process that saw the director sort through thousands of musicians to find an authentic group. While the film was a massive critical and commercial success, Hansard remained wary of being defined by it.

Then, in 2007, the film Once marked another significant evolution for Hansard. Unlike The Commitments, where he was part of a large ensemble cast, Once was built directly around his music and his real-life musical partnership with Markéta Irglová (together known as The Swell Season). Hansard was initially reluctant to take the role, fearing that—much like his experience with The Commitments—it might distort his career or feel inauthentic. He only agreed on the condition that the production remained low-budget, intimate, and that he be fully involved in the filmmaking process. The result? A smash hit!

Throughout his transition from the set of The Commitments to broader fame with Once, the constant in Hansard’s life was The Frames. Formed around the same time he was gaining visibility on screen, the band became his primary artistic vehicle. The Frames allowed him to cultivate a loyal, long-term following.

The album’s namesake, the movie Fitzcarraldo, is about a man who refuses to accept that the impossible is impossible. He drags an actual steamship over an actual mountain in the actual Amazon jungle, not because it is sensible, but because he has a vision and refused to abandon it. Ultimately, Glen Hansard was doing the same thing: building a music career on the streets of Dublin, losing a record deal, borrowing money from a pub, recording in a city not known for its studios, and eventually naming the album after an act of lunatic perseverance.

30 years later, the album holds up entirely. Fitzcarraldo is loud and tender, disciplined and full of abandon, Celtic and universal. It is a record that sounds like someone singing at full volume in an empty room and not caring at all who hears, made by a band that had learned, through considerable pain, what they actually sounded like.

They were pulling a heavy ship over a metaphorical mountain… It turns out the ship made it. Now go listen!