21 February 29 - March 6, 2024 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents Endurance Test Tragedy drove Alex Irish away from Deep Ellum. The music brought her back. BY ALEX GONZALEZ A lex Irish refuses to be boxed in. A survivor of street vio- lence, Irish remains steadfast in her craft, channeling her pain and trauma through rock and Latin-infused sounds. Her latest EP, Twisted Metal, is an offering of the music she’s always wanted to make, influenced by her upbringing in an Afrolatinx household, and her teenage years as a self-described al- ternative kid. Twisted Metal features a new version of the crowd-favorite song “Psycho.” After re- leasing an EDM version of the song on her 2022 EP Renacida, Irish found the song therapeutic. “No matter what I do, I can’t escape the psycho / I can’t escape the psycho / This bitch gonna drive me psycho,” she sings over brash guitars, putting her raw anguish on display. Upon first listen, one might guess that “Psycho” is about a relationship gone wrong, but the song was born out of a trau- matic event and served as a recovery method for Irish. On Nov. 18, 2021, Irish was shot in Deep Ellum. The shooting broke a femur and left Irish unable to walk for eight months. “In those eight months leading up to when I could walk again, we made ‘Psycho,’” Irish says. “It’s just really about the dark headspace that I was in. The post-traumatic stress was making me crazy and not trust anybody — not trust my family, not trust my- self, let alone strangers. Even going outside was really tough for me.” The mental recovery and the physical re- covery were equally strenuous. Irish had a metal rod between her hip and knee, and six screws placed in her leg. She went to physi- cal therapy twice a week, where she slowly began to learn how to walk again. “It was a lot of reflexology and getting the muscles to respond,” says Irish. “I started in a wheelchair, and worked myself up to a cane just by sitting and staying dedicated to the physical therapy, doing the work at home that my physical therapist would ask me to do.” Eventually, Irish grew bored of not being able to do everyday tasks, such as move around or bathe by herself. But she credits her iron will and her perseverant mindset for helping accelerate the recovery process. Irish admits she started walking before she should’ve, against the advice of her physical therapist. Those who know her well wouldn’t find that surprising. In the week leading up to Twisted Metal’s release, Irish is at a studio in the Design Dis- trict. She is shooting last-minute social con- tent to promote the EP, and questioning whether to add another song or two to the tracklist. “Just letting it go has been the most chal- lenging part,” says Irish. “I mean, I’m hold- ing it so tight, and I want it to be perfection. But at the end of the day, if I’m chasing that perfection, I’ll be holding onto it for years. I just want to give it to you guys and share how raw it is.” Irish hails from Cleburne, where her love of music was instilled into her by her par- ents. Her parents were divorced, and when her father picked her up from her mother’s house and made the four-hour drive to his home, they would listen to the sounds of Stevie Wonder and Michael Jackson. She also fell in love with Latin rock artists Juanes and Monchy Y Alexandra. By high school, she found herself listen- ing to Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Travis Scott — artists who defied the boundaries of genre and played by their own rules. “Twisted Metal is a twisted version of my past self and my future self,” Irish says. “The ‘trap, hip-hop’ Alex Irish meets what I feel like are my roots in music, which were rock. I just found a way to mesh it together.” On one of the album’s songs, “Fall Off,” Irish takes inspiration from a New Boyz song called “Freak My Shit.” The intro of “Fall Off” features Irish rap-singing, “I could fall off today, and still fuck a famous [man]’s ho / I could fall off today, and still walk in the VIP / ‘Cuz the whole city know that I’m that bitch.” “I remember hearing [“Freak My Shit”] as a kid in 2012, and thinking, ‘This is so nasty, this song is so captivating and dirty,’” says Irish. “And in the Twisted Metal era that I’m in, I really want to bring out that crunch- iness, that dirtiness, and also that confi- dence.” With five songs, and clocking in at a total of 10 minutes, Twisted Metal feels like a quick adrenaline rush that leaves listeners thirsty for another hit. The artist is proving to be one of the city’s most thrilling musi- cians, but it took Irish a while to get to a point where she was satisfied with the EP, so she wants you to live with this music for a bit. “I want you to take it to the gym and work your ass off,” Irish says. “I want you to drive in your car and go fast. I want this album to excite you. And I hope that it excites you guys just as much, and gets your heart pumping and flowing.” Even amid tragedy, Irish can’t be held back. In addition to a strict therapy regimen, performing helped her get back to doing what she loves, where she loves and with the people she loves. “For a while, I turned my back on Deep Ellum,” Irish says. “I had no trust, and no faith in it. But the music brought me back to performing at places like Club Dada. I’ve found a community, I see my fans come out. It’s dangerous, but they’ll still come and stand in line for me. It’s opened my heart. These shows have really shown me, yeah, it’s Deep Ellum, but it’s fucking culture. It’s mu- sic. It’s love.” German Torres | B-SIDES | t Music Alex Irish channels her trauma through her rock and Latin-infused sound. WE OUR MEMBERS LOCAL JOURNALISM IS FOR LOVERS LEARN MORE AT DALLASOBSERVER.COM/SUPPORT ICYMI IN CASE YOU MISSED IT SUBSCRIBE TO OUR DAILY NEWSLETTER DALLASOBSERVER.COM/SIGNUP
