Franklin arrived on the Irish music a fully formed and realized band. Debut single ‘Bebby’ earned them ‘Track of the Week’ on RTE2XM and knighted as one of God Is In The Tv’s Tracks of the Week. Follow up ‘B.A.T.O.F.’ found them headlining Belfast’s iconic Mandela Hall, selling out the Union Bar, supporting The Florentinas in a sold out Bangor Court House as well as being touted as on of the Top 10 singles of 2024 by Chordblossom. Following a slew of 2025 live dates the band now return with their soaring new single, ‘Tiny Chairs’. A genre crossing, pressure valve release that frontman Kevin uses to address his struggle with multiple mental illnesses and smiling through hollow advice delivered with best intentions. ‘Tiny Chairs’ feels like the band stepping into themselves, an expansion of their sound while cementing themselves as one of Belfast’s most exciting voices.
“Full of power with glorious soaring, riffs, emotional and passionate vocals”
God Is In the TV
Franklin are made up of Kevin Hillick(vocals), Matthew McMullan(drums), Luke Fleming(guitar), Bailey McEvoy(guitar) and Jamie McClurg(bass). Franklin’s special alchemy comes from the relationship between each of the players, each drawing on their own pool of influence. From the sparkling melodies of Johnny Marr to the pummeling Turnstile, dreamy fuzz of the Smashing Pumpkins to the visceral rawness of Title Fight and the weight of Black Sabbath. Their ability to blend these often-disparate sounds and make them into a cohesive whole as their own voice and vehicle for self-expression is Franklin’s magic. It’s this voice we hear fully come into its own on new single ‘Tiny Chairs’.
“Bursting with energy, this is the unquestionable sound of the youth”
Mull It Over
‘Tiny Chairs’ opens somewhat inconspicuously, and in true mid-west emo fashion, with a quiet picky guitar, that almost feels from another time and place, before the whole band kick in and we are hit with a wall of gnarly bass, fuzzy guitar and thunderous drums. The band drop down and give Kevin space to come in as he intones “Count down from ten they all said, at least that's what I recall”, a line that beautifully and succinctly wraps up frustrations, both internal and external. Acoustic strummed chords are joined by chiming guitars before we’re hit full force as the chorus breaks like a tsunami. Matt’s drums help provide exclamation points to accents, while Kevin’s vocals soar above the rolling fuzz of the bass and guitars. There’s a wealth of sounds on display here, a watery chorus guitar provides its own instrumental break. A short, melodic solo takes us to the middle that gets quiet before it gets incredibly loud, the eye of a breaking storm, as the pressure valve releases, Kevin screams ‘I'm here but barely present, I've never once felt this small’. The band open up and you can practically hear their instruments bend under the tension release. A flurry of notes are met by furious drums, and then suddenly, it’s all over.
Kevin says, “The lyrics mainly revolve around suffering with multiple mental illness and all the things people will say or do to try to make you feel better. I'd heard so many wild suggestions and opinions from people when I told them that I suffered from ADHD or depression.” When asked about the inspiration for the title, “I've suffered with mental health issues for most of my life and when I was younger had the attention span of a goldfish so I became quite a distraction in class in school. So, they would send me to this random room to do activities while the rest of the class did math. I just always remembered they had the tiniest chairs”
When it came time to record the band returned to Oran McGuckin at Apex Studios who they had worked with previously. Already having established that rapport and musical vocabulary with Oran allowed the band to work quickly and capture the energy of the song. Again, keen to build upon previous relationships, the band turned to Hot Shoe Productions to be a part of the visual language for the release. Aiming for a feel reminiscent of 90s DIY videos that captured bands’ energy as they thrashed it out in their basements, the band brought the production into their practice space. Artwork was created by long time collaborator Louis Nelson which reflects the isolation of mental illness, the one tiny chair in a huge empty room of nothing and no one.
The band say they view this as a trilogy of single releases before we move into a new era. Few trilogies manage to stick the landing but with ‘Tiny Chairs’ Franklin all at once expand their sound while cementing it. The track distills everything up to this point, live shows, previous releases and hints to the future as to what might be on the horizon."
© Michael Smyth
