THE FRONT ROW

Niall Logue’s latest single, From the Heart, feels exactly like its title promises: a candid, unvarnished glimpse into the messy corners of the mind and the quiet moments where doubt and hope collide. It’s a track that doesn’t try to be clever for clever’s sake or dress its vulnerability up in metaphorical finery. Instead, it stakes its claim on something braver, plainspoken honesty.

Built on a warmly strummed acoustic guitar that nods to the jangly melancholia of The La’s, the song’s musical core is understated but instantly familiar. You can hear hints of 90s indie in the way the chords loop around themselves, creating a hypnotic backdrop that lets Logue’s words do the heavy lifting. Yet there’s also something modern in its rawness, evoking the confessional style of Car Seat Headrest or early Phoebe Bridgers, where the distance between the singer and the listener seems to vanish altogether.

Lyrically, From the Heart is disarmingly simple, and that’s precisely where its power lies. “For so long I found it hard to have some self-belief,” Logue admits, the line landing like an exhale after holding in too much air. The repetition of “I always feel like the only one” feels almost like a mantra, a way of naming the isolating thoughts so many of us carry but rarely share out loud. There’s a gentle defiance in the refrain “But I don’t wanna turn back time,” as if he’s acknowledging the difficulty of the past while refusing to be defined by it.

One of the most striking elements is the half-sung, half-spoken delivery. Logue doesn’t overplay the sentiment, he lets his voice crack and waver, and in doing so, the performance becomes more believable. When he says “these are words from the heart,” it doesn’t feel like a slogan or a line crafted to tug at emotions, it feels like a confession you might hear over a late-night kitchen table, when the masks come off and the truth is all that’s left.

It’s clear that From the Heart is resonating far beyond Logue’s immediate circle. BBC Introducing has already lent its support, and independent radio stations across the UK and overseas have picked up on the song’s quiet magnetism. In an age where so much new music chases virality with polished hooks and synthetic sheen, Logue’s willingness to be emotionally unguarded feels almost radical.

Sonically, there are no grand crescendos or showy production tricks here, just a steady, unpretentious arrangement that leaves space for connection. It’s music you can imagine playing in a small venue with the audience sitting cross-legged on the floor, each person feeling seen in their own uncertainty. At just over three minutes, the track doesn’t overstay its welcome; it says what it needs to say and leaves you with the sense that maybe, just maybe, you’re not the only one thinking these things.

From the Heart is a reminder that sometimes the most compelling art is the least complicated: a song, a voice, and the courage to share what hurts and heals. For Niall Logue, that commitment to sincerity might be his greatest strength yet.