Orla Gartland dishes some fist-pumpingly good indie pop-rock on her second album, Everybody Needs a Hero. Even Elton John thinks so.

Orla Gartland’s new album ‘Everybody Needs A Hero’ starts with a sorrowful lamentation on how hard a toxic relationship can be – both the love and the hatred, the fear and the joy, the numbness and the realisation, can be true. She sets the rest of the album up in this way. We might expect the rest of the album to wear this cloak. Some form of a whimper, some gorgeous piano arpeggios, that silky yet scratchy voice so identifiable as the Dublin-based independent music sad and dreary as is the common feeling as a young artist facing a life of obstacles.

It's anything but. Next is the all caps SOUND OF LETTING GO that drives forward into Little Chaos, a statement of intent to reclaim the narrative of mess the narrator finds her life tumbling into. Following this is a favourite of mine, Backseat Driver, where Orla Gartland uses party-rhythm guitar to backdrop her metaphorical exploration into the anxieties and fears the little voice in your head platforms. Gartland candidly sings of crashing straight into the wall whilst fighting her attention-seeking habits. “I wouldn’t trust me either.” She tells a “version of the truth,” and next thing hips pop at the jangly sparse yet powerful soundscape that’s always an interesting listen.

Gartland is probably best known for her song on hit UK show Heartstopper, “Why am I like this?”, promising to elicit tears from even the stoniest of faces. She proves she can still do this, and then some, with tracks like “The Hit” and “Simple”, songs which feel like the warmth from a hot drink on a cold day, set with the perfect amount of “oohs” and “aahs” in the background, and syncopated tapping of soft drums.

Her very first collaboration is in safe hands with indie-rocker Declan Mckenna’s appearance on “Late to the Party”, a certified hit as confirmed by Elton John’s podcast. What can be jolting about listening to Gartland is her use of structure – she defies the set drills of pop structure and twists and turns the listener into dips and paces that seem to come about a little too quickly. For that reason, some of the songs seem like they stumble. Yet, Gartland isn’t too reactive, nor is she heavy-handed. Quite the opposite. The songs are confident and throw their own lasso around the indie-pop sound - listeners can’t keep up sometimes because they are meant to be challenged.

I read a comment somewhere that suggested, “if Olivia Rodrigo sung half of these songs, they’d be in the top ten,” and it got me thinking. Orla’s offering on this album is strong, confident, personable and so relatable. “Kiss Ur Face Forever”, for example, is one of the most radio-friendly, spirited anthem I’ve heard in years. “I’ve struggled showing just how much I really love you, you can thank my mum for that,” she sings on ‘Little Chaos’, and on the background stifles a chortle, remarking “she’s gonna hate that.” She’s all of us.

What this album does, then, is highlight the parameters of purely independent music. Orla Gartland has spoken honestly about what she can and can’t afford as an independent artist. The USA, for example, is off limits. Touring is becoming more and more difficult. These songs deserve a mighty platform, to be sung heartily in arenas. Orla is doing a magnificient job getting there - but is there only so much she can do? Is Olivia Rodrigo forever destined to be bigger than her, even if that doesn’t mean better? Whatever the answer, Orla is a breath of fresh air in the indie-pop scene today. This album is an absolute pleasure to listen to.