Tantrums in Tandem, the debut full-length from New York City-based band Irish Exit, is a blistering, tightly wound 42-minute ride across fourteen tracks that feel as impulsive as they are thoughtfully constructed. Credited on Spotify with Ryan Leonard Palmer as composer and lyricist, and Nicholas Michael Grasso III as co-composer, the record introduces a band with an immediately recognizable identity: raw, loud, self-aware, and surprisingly cohesive.
My first point of comparison is Jeff Rosenstock — not just in Irish Exit’s high-energy, scrappy rock-punk hybrid, but vocally too. Palmer’s delivery shares Rosenstock’s half-yelled, half-melodic emotiveness: the kind that cracks intentionally, leans into imperfection, and treats the voice less as a pristine instrument and more as a conduit for urgency. I also very much hear The Weakerthans, Joyce Manor, AJJ, and even flashes of My Chemical Romance as clear influences, though Irish Exit sits comfortably in that orbit while carving out their own distinct, New York-flavoured bite. At times, they also channel the sharp indie cool of Bar Italia and the shimmering, restless textures of Deep Sea Diver.
The album explodes open with its intro track, “Intrusive Truth,” which immediately signals the band’s musical chops: shifting meters, unexpected turns, and a sense of controlled turbulence. It’s musically interesting without slipping into self-indulgence. From the outset, Irish Exit proves they’re tight — frighteningly tight. The kind of tight that makes you think, Yeah, I’d absolutely see them at a gig. And I would. I already know I’ll be streaming this song on repeat.
It bleeds seamlessly into “The Holy Land of Coney Island (goldest).” In fact, these transitions happen across the entire record. Songs lock into each other like puzzle pieces, forming a narrative and musical through-line that’s shockingly accomplished for a debut. It’s clear the band entered the studio with a real vision for the shape, pacing, and emotional contour of this album.
Irish Exit also shows off their sense of humour with track titles that riff on iconic songs: “Francis Forever Will Have Their Revenge on Bushwick (new configurinè)” nods directly to Mitski; “good friends, m.A.A.d city” is a sly wink at Kendrick; “Carry on Chemareéaward Son” is impossible to read without hearing Kansas in your head. But I don’t think their references are cheap gimmicks — they’re playful breadcrumbs that reveal the band’s musical DNA.
That tongue-in-cheek sensibility carries into their lyricism, too. The first proper track drops one of my favourite lines on the album: “Piece of shit, hypocrite, it all comes to the surface.” It’s blunt and emblematic of the emotional volatility the record thrives on… and makes Tantrums in Tandem an especially fitting title.
Listening to the record from top to bottom is a genuinely fantastic experience. The writing is sharp, the production crisp without losing texture, and the performances are full of whimsy. There are no weak spots — just a band with a clear point of view and the skill to back it up. As a Toronto local who frequents New York, I’d love nothing more than to catch Irish Exit live. This album makes me confident they’d put on an unforgettable show.
Written by Krystal Camilla
