DEAD DADS CLUB: CHILLI JENSON CHANNELS THE QUIET ACHE OF GRIEF INTO A PERFORMANCE DEFINED BY RAW POWER

ALBUM REVIEW | DEAD DADS CLUB – DEAD DADS CLUB by Anne Kelly

The Dead Dads Club: the membership nobody applies for, but one that life eventually forces upon us all. For Chilli Jenson – best known for being one half of 2010’s indie risers Palma Violets – he was dealt that blow at the young age of just 14. Losing his father to drug addiction at such an impressionable age, Jenson found himself turning to life of rebellion, bottling that cold grief and turning to music to fulfil that void.

Palma Violets happened fast: the band were championed loudly on the indie scene gaining traction with tracks like ‘Best of Friends‘ and ‘We Found Love‘ from their top 20 debut album 180. From gracing the cover of NME in 2012, by 2016 Palma Violets was over and Jenson was left reflecting on that void once again, admitting:

“When Palmas finished… I mean, I thought that would be forever. I was so positive about it. So when it’s taken away or it runs its course, it becomes very empty on the other side…”

Despite trying to immerse himself back into music, Jenson was dealt blow after blow, leaving an artist without his art and asking the dreaded question of: what now? Within the next few years, his life would change again, this time for the better, when he was invited to join Fontaines D.C. on the road as part of their touring band. Chilli Jenson was back where he belonged – on stage – regaining that confidence which would pave the way for his most refined and personal work yet. As the frontman of Dead Dads Club, Jenson channels the quiet ache of grief into a performance defined by raw, creative power.

From the moment Dead Dads Club debut single ‘Don’t Blame The Son For The Sins of The Father’ hit my speakers, I felt myself melt into the cacophony of noise. The sort of discordant charm that transcends the realms of melodic sense, but a real raw connection from the soul.

“People say I look like my dad, and maybe there was a connection there where she was just seeing him in me”

Knowing that Fontaines D.C.’s Carlos O’Connell helmed the production for this maiden voyage, the track’s emotional depth makes perfect sense. Fans of the band will recognise O’Connell’s fingerprints all over this production with ‘Don’t Blame The Son For The Sins of The Father’ possessing that same haunting charm found in Fontaine’s own Romance. It’s clear that the pair share a profound creative shorthand, a trait that carries the album throughout.

Stepping back to the start, ‘It’s Only Just Begun‘ serves as a definitive hard launch. It’s an instant standout that signals exactly where we’re headed: a journey of emotional highs defined by a rare blend of clarity and raw, vulnerable sentiment. The transition into ‘Volatile Child‘ is seamless, maintaining a momentum so relentless it leaves you gasping for air. It’s here that the lyrical foundation of the project is laid bare, centering on a sense of internal turmoil that refuses to let up.

Throughout the record, there’s a heavy nod to the 2000s guitar revival. You can hear the experimental retro-energy of MGMT and the garage-rock swagger of The Strokes bleeding into tracks like ‘Humming Wires,’ ‘Goosebumps,’ and ‘That’s Life‘ – all of which anchor the album’s indie-pop sensibilities in a nostalgic, grit-flecked sound.

Another highlight of the record is the melody-driven serenade, ‘Junkyard Radiator.’ Jenson’s vocals masterfully pivot between a grittier rock edge and the tender harmonies reminiscent of Brian Wilson’s tones on Pet Sounds (Pet Shop Boys). There is a deeply comforting connection radiating from these tracks – one that sparks a sense of nostalgia while remaining firmly grounded and relevant in 2026.

‘Running Out of Gas‘ is primarily acoustic-driven, yet it maintains a jarring intensity. The orchestration builds into a chaotic clash as the song reaches its fever-pitch finale, complemented by Jenson’s vocals, which stretch and bend to create a sense of melodic distress. ‘Need This Around‘ continues on a similar vain, albeit much more pop leaning in it’s choruses, with a much more optimistic energy. Yet complete with some lovely well place breathy moments to keep that sense of urgency and passion.

The record concludes not with finality, but with a profound sense of catharsis. It feels like a long-awaited confrontation with suppressed truths finally coming to light. Thriving on the feeling of unearthing long-hidden emotions, the album maintains a vulnerability that feels intensely relatable. Even penultimate offering ‘Hospital Pillow‘, which serves more as a quiet palate cleanser than a standout hit, plays a vital role in balancing the record’s heavy atmosphere. It all culminates in ‘Need You So Bad‘, a closing statement on pain and longing that hits home regardless of who – or what – you imagine the lyrics are about.

Whilst Chilli Jenson is no newbie to the scene, his latest project Dead Dads Club marks a significant turning point for the artist. With the continued support of his band, and collaboration with Carlos O’Connell, Jenson has unearthed a confidence that should continue to carry him into more music and creativity to come. For now, the debut, self-titled album from Dead Dads Club is out now via Fiction Records.

You can also head along to listen to the tracks stripped back and live at select record stores throughout the week.