Album Review: No Other Option

It’s a leap of faith indeed to leave home to pursue a life in music, especially so if it results in travelling to the opposite end of the globe. For Dublin-born, Wellington-based singer-songwriter Dónal Gunning, that journey provides the emotional inspiration for much of No Other Option, his first full-length album (as either a solo artist or with The Bucks, his band). His debut traces the challenges of building a life on unfamiliar ground while holding on to the creative instincts that made the journey worthwhile. Songs of hope, love, the past and the identity of being a musician inform his lyrics set against catchy songs that spanning genres from rock n’ roll, folk, heavy metal and even a little 2000’s indie pop.

Since arriving in Aotearoa, Gunning has steadily established himself within Wellington’s independent music landscape. In fact, you’d have to be living under a rock in the Te Whanganui-a-Tara scene to have not heard or seen Dónal live yet; he’s played as both a solo performer and with his band at numerous venues in and around Wellington and across the motu on multiple tours now. Hell, he even did a gig back in Ireland this year. Here, his solo songwriter role bleeds into the frontman persona and the focus very much remains on Dónal as the star, but I feel as if the songs just wouldn’t work any other way. While a few of the tunes might work as uniting anthems about common experiences, the majority are personal autobiographical tales about his life that usually contain at least one component that is a stripped-back section you could imagine him performing alone. These sections, many of them introductions, allow surprises to be enjoyed as the band embellishes these songs with crushing guitars, and pummelling drum performances. Just because a song sounds like a ballad at the beginning doesn’t mean there won’t be a shred solo by the end. Oh and a big catchy chorus. There’s a lot of those.

Lyrically, his debut solo single, Homesick, introduced a performer reflecting on the difficulties of leaving family and friends behind, while his 2024 EP, Born to Perform, drew inspiration from time spent travelling between New Zealand, Portugal and Ireland. The recent EP, Zero Bucks Given, didn’t lyrically address musician identity as much as other releases, but with No Other Option, those experiences find a new home in a fuller rock-oriented sound and are brought centre stage once more. Musically, the album builds on the foundations of his earlier EPs, while expanding his musical vocabulary into funk, folk and heavy metal. Disco rhythms introduce fresh textures especially on single Oven, but these rhythms can be heard on other songs too. Rather than settling into one style, the record embraces the possibilities of a songwriter finding his feet and discovering where his music can take him with The Bucks to power his ideas.

The four advance singles, Oven, Thoughts, Breathing and The Way I Feel, introduce this developing sound because these four songs are indicative of the range to be enjoyed on the album. Together, they establish the album’s rock foundations while placing Gunning’s vocals and personal songwriting at the centre of focus. There is a sense of an artist willing to push beyond familiar territory without losing sight of the directness that gives his music its appeal (read: catchy rock n’ roll). In the live setting, Gunning is a charismatic lead singer; conversational between songs with his Irish charm and accent. Occasionally his frontman skills border on proselytizing the crowd during songs, whipping the audience into participation with call and response sections or simply by dancing. Here, without the ability to work the crowd, Gunning relies on showcasing the strengths of his songwriting and the abilities of the band to deliver them. The Bucks provide the musical muscle to support his ambition. Featuring Stan Shepherd and Jake Bergstrom on guitars and Mason John Williams on drums, the Wellington musicians help translate Gunning’s ideas into a more expansive rock sound.

Album opener Breathing starts out soft but is soon joined by thunderous guitars as the song changes gear into full throttle rock. There are swirling chorus effects that add to the build as Dónal sings “It’s been too long, to know how, to breathe in, to breathe out, it’s been too long”. There’s a classic bridge with an absolute stanking lead guitar that heralds a key change; precisely what a bridge should do. This creates a sensation that the catchy song is an epic classic and I was surprised to discover the song is barely three minutes long. This formula is used throughout the record to create the illusion of a longer song by getting to enjoyable transitions quickly and reducing repetitions unless it’s a sing-along chorus (the tried and true maxim, ‘don’t bore us, get to the chorus!’ might well be a tattoo on his left arm). By the song’s end, Dónal has begun to really break out with a passionate delivery of his vocals rather than a more controlled take and I have to admit I like his rawer voice on the rockier songs. The second track, The Way I Feel is musically a little more complex, containing lots of accents for the band to punch together. The bass is more prominent and there’s some good use of stereo effect for vocals. Again, the song is surprisingly short, but you’d have to be tone deaf or memory impaired to not be half singing the chorus by the end. There’s even some honky-tonk piano to help encourage a sing-along by the end.

When I Was is a rock ballad about becoming a singer and features some really nice double tracked vocals. The song transforms into funk territory (more of that to come) and once more the song leans toward catchiness with the self-conscious lyrics of “you gave me the rock, and he gave me the roll, you got these crowds they’re screaming out of control”. Some might say (😉) that self-aware songs about music, especially in the rock genre, can be a little cringe but hey, there’s ample examples of it working out just fine. Perhaps it works better, tongue in cheek or not, in the live setting with Dónal dramatically pointing out into the crowd and winking, but regardless, the songs on display here are appealing and like his tireless promotion, it’s difficult to fault the honesty.

Echoes & Sounds begins life as another ballad but there’s a bigger blues influence. The funk, possibly due to bass being Dónal’s contribution in The Bucks and it being an instrument that informs the genre, is again detectable in the song’s makeup. Its rock-pop sensibility provides a meeting point between Gunning’s established influences and the musical environment he has found in Wellington. The lyrics are a little bit of a mouthful: (“I’m trying to understand, why I can’t be the man who holds the solutions to the world’s problems, they’re in the palm of my hand”) but the result is endearingly authentic when combined later with the chorus of “I won’t let you down, I will follow you and I will sing this aloud”. Dónal makes one thing abundantly clear on this record – he is keen to rock you.

Some of this intention backfires a little on tracks like Insane that is built on a rather derivative blues riff found on La Grange by ZZ Top or On the Road Again by Canned Heat, but the song is fun anyway and features the most heavy metal moments on the record (so far, more riffage coming, don’t worry…). Here, Dónal is at his most sermon-like with lyrics such as “you gotta keep me going through the night, you gotta testify, testify, until it’s time”, and like earlier songs I can testify this approach is effective in the live setting with band and crowd pointing at one another between winks and drinks. A rock n’ roll sermon – come all ye faithful.

Then … the standout single. Oven seems to be the most produced track of the album with a prominent disco-inspired bassline, soft synths that galvanize the tune, and guitar lines that don’t overwhelm but are instead neat and punctuated – almost polite rather than previously bombastic contributions. The double tracked vocals, the call and response sections allowing the band to be stripped back as they play and then wait, create huge dynamic contrasts that serve the song well. It all creates a track that is real single material. I can’t help wondering in today’s low attention world why it didn’t start the album, but the position of it near the middle of the album is a nice treat. Dónal sings with passion and exuberance, “I’m excited by the way that you shake, I’m licking my lips for the brownies you bake.” The lyrics are odd and quaint enough to become memorably peculiar. Just when you think it’s all cute and charming, he hits the listener with a minor transition to deliver: “I’ll stick my head in the oven, count my problems by the dozen, now I know maybe someday this will count for something,” and then, in a stuttered rhythm “I’m a suck-er f-or your fun” and suddenly, miraculously, the frustration and passion, even the hidden desperation beneath the fun of touring and self-promoting, Gunning’s life is unlocked. Here, Oven exists as a catalyst and a key to understanding the whole album and by extension Dónal himself. The song is effective and is a real standout tune both musically and lyrically, perhaps because of the delivery being so believable and the lyrics being vaguely surreal hinting simultaneously at both romantic love and perhaps also referring to the love of music itself, but the running metaphor of the oven (Sylvia Plath connotations included) make the song multifaceted and charmingly beguiling. If there’s a song that should operate as a flagship for what the band and Dónal can achieve this is it. Chuck it on repeat and be amazed at how many times you can listen to it.

The second half of the album continues with Thoughts, a song that is far more a solo songwriter tune and contrasts nicely with the preceding track. You could argue that this could have waited for a solo album (apparently on the way too) as it contains only guitar and voice (oh wait, there’s a tasty trumpet solo in there too) but the refrain of ‘I’m in love’ is satisfying and provides a calm spot before things get rowdy again.

Apart from the standout track Oven, The North Island is my favourite song on the album. Things start off calm with the curious lyrics of “I am the octopus” but the song soon transforms to reveal heavy detuned guitars, swirling melodies drenched in reverb and even a violin solo. The rhyming pattern is limerick-ly inspired (“take me to the North Island, still climbing, I ain’t gonna get you down”) and by the time the double tracked “just call” arrives the listener is no doubt fighting every instinct to sing along. The North Island takes a more unexpected route than other songs, combining his singer-songwriter roots with Midwest emo leanings. It’s an intriguing reflection of the musical ground he has covered since moving to Aotearoa. I detect a Kings of Leon inspiration amongst other rock band influences and the result is complex, personal and single-worthy song showcasing once again another way the band can take Gunning’s ideas and present them with fleshed out parts that are simultaneously heavy and tuneful.

Album closer Stay relies on the same strengths as the other songs, beginning as an unsuspecting ballad and features some spoken word in Gaeilge. The song grows into heavy metal, featuring a finale riff that is pretty much metalcore, but it (fortunately / unfortunately depending on how much you like those kinds of riffs) is short-lived as the rock n’ roll returns and the track forms a segue into the final track, Outro which really just extends the songs fading distortion. In today’s track/stream-obsessed statistics, it probably doesn’t pay to have a song that suddenly ends or a song that is really just the extended feedback of a preceding song, but (perceived together as one song) the outro is an impressive finale. Lyrically, Dónal must surely be aware of the irony of ending an album about discovery and journeys with a word pleading someone to stay when he himself seems to do very little of that, but perhaps that’s the point. Stay, brings the album to a heavy conclusion. Metal-inspired guitar riffs give the emotionally charged power ballad a sense of weight, rounding out a record that moves beyond straightforward indie rock.

As a band, echoes of Thin Lizzy, Oasis, AC/DC, Zeppelin and Franz Ferdinand are prominent throughout the album, but sections that are more reliant on Gunning’s solo act are inspired by Neil Young, Leonard Cohen and Bowie. Although there are melancholy moments, the album is, on the whole, a celebration of life and choices. The Irish element is present such as the prominent use of the word darling, (or should I say darlin’?) but not so much a New Zealand element apart from mentioning The North Island, but that’s to be expected. Sexual metaphors abound from licking lips after sticking heads into ovens through to favourite spreads on pieces of bread, but Dónal never comes off as inappropriate as all his lyrics are interpreted through the lens and tradition of rock n’ roll. I must admit, occasionally I’m blindsided by lyrics that seem a little trivial or appear to be chosen for their rhyming capability. Mostly this works to create the illusion that the song is a classic and the listener can almost anticipate the words before they’ve been sung, but occasionally they come off as a little silly. Do they work in the live setting? Yes of course, these are anthems after all, but a few such as “When I was fifteen years tall, my daddy gave me his Les Paul” or “they weigh me down like reverse ecstasy” seem puerile, but thankfully they don’t really detract from the songs because the inherent fun of sing-alongs outweighs any critical analysis. Hey, it’s only rock n’ roll but I like it.

Produced by Peter Jamieson and recorded in Wellington, No Other Option captures a songwriter at an important point in his development. The decision to pursue music overseas has brought uncertainty, but it has also given Gunning new perspectives and a growing audience. Those experiences are woven into a debut that balances introspection with an evident appetite for experimentation. This willingness to explore different sounds gives No Other Option its defining character, even as the songwriting remains rooted in personal experience. For an artist whose earlier releases documented the process of finding his place in the world, No Other Option feels like a significant step forward. Gunning has taken the foundations of his songwriting and built a broader musical identity around them. With The Bucks alongside him, this debut offers a compelling snapshot of an Irish musician making his mark in Aotearoa. It’s catchy, it’s fun, it’s unexpectedly emotional and heavy. Give it a spin and see him live – he’s a force of nature to behold.