At times, The Weight of the Woods feels nearly too close, too candid; Dermot Kennedy’s lyrics are the stuff of text messages you wish you never sent, the thoughts you can’t hush at 3 am, the spoke-too-soon declarations of forever. The lyrics may speak to complicated, intricate relationships and life lessons, but he’s willing to crack his heart open and offer up the stuff of it for the sake of understanding. He doesn’t need more than a piano, a guitar, and his voice to share that universal truth. Whether he’s growing hoarse from pushing himself on the high notes, experimenting with electronic beats, or pushing the limit of his acoustic guitar’s steel strings, Kennedy remains consistent: It is very easy to believe every single word he sings, no matter how epic or sparse the production behind him. With his third studio album, the Irish singer-songwriter trades the digital toolkit and studio setup he recently favoured on 2022’s Sonder for little more than a piano, guitar, occasional percussion, and a strong backing choir. The instrumentation shift, intimate and raw, is a perfect fit for the emotional rollercoaster of The Weight of the Woods, as the notoriously guarded Kennedy delivers his most revealing balladry yet. Life, death, faith, and love are clearly on his mind, and a fatalistic intensity ebbs and flows throughout The Weight of the Woods. “Funeral” channels Brill Building grandeur as he sings of a love reborn (“We held a funeral for heartache/We buried trouble in the grass/We didn’t bother buying roses/’Cause we ain’t ever going back”). “Refuge” states his devotion plain, but hardly plainly (“If we never make it/At least we can say we died trying”); “Turnstile” lays bare his desperate longing (“Don’t wanna know this life without you/I’m not strong enough”), while “The Only Time I Prayed” confronts his doubts in a higher power (“It’s funny how the dark can make us all believers”). But it’s the two versions of the title track that bookend The Weight of the Woods—a soaring a cappella choral rendition to start, and a full-throated testament from Kennedy sitting at the piano to finish—that profoundly convey his strength in vulnerability. He grew up in Rathcoole, a village in County Dublin, and “The Weight of the Woods” is a quiet but potent reflection on his journey from small-town anonymity to international fame and, ultimately, his desire to be buried in Rathcoole when the time comes (“If I should fall down... Get me back to my home ground/Let me add to the weight of the woods”).