There's a place for all of these women, and there needs to be a stage
From a single unrehearsed afternoon on a London stage, eleven Irish women have quietly redrawn the boundaries of what traditional music can look like and where it can travel. BIIRD — assembled not by industry calculation but by years of human trust — has sold out venues across continents and toured stadiums alongside one of the world's biggest artists, all before releasing a single record. Their story asks an old question in a new register: what happens when a tradition is carried forward not by preservation, but by provocation?
- Eleven musicians who had barely met were performing before ten thousand people in Trafalgar Square — and the clock has not slowed since.
- The trad music world was shaken not only by the sound but by the image: corsets, glitter, and dark designer fashion where modest folk convention once held firm.
- Without an album, a label campaign, or industry machinery, BIIRD spread through word-of-mouth alone — until Ed Sheeran noticed and handed them stadium stages.
- The Irish diaspora in Australia and New Zealand already knew who they were before the group landed, signalling a reach that outpaced any conventional rollout.
- A debut album is now being recorded, and the musicians speak of it less as a launch than as a document of something already in motion.
- Young girls are picking up instruments because of what they've seen — and the group is beginning to wonder whether they are opening a door or building an entire new room.
On St Patrick's Day 2024, eleven women gathered on a Trafalgar Square stage — most of them meeting only hours before the performance. They had no album, no collective history, only the music and the conviction of Canny, a seven-time All Ireland champion, who had spent years weaving relationships across the Irish traditional music world and simply called the people she trusted. Ten thousand people watched. Two years on, BIIRD has sold out venues across the UK and Ireland, toured stadiums with Ed Sheeran, and built a following that spans continents — all without releasing a single record.
What distinguished them from the start was not only the sound — fiddles, flutes, harps, banjos, cello, concertina, and lilting woven into something rooted yet alive — but the image. Working with Irish designers, the group chose corsets, glitter, heavy eyeliner, and sustainable pieces from names like Simone Rocha and Paul Costelloe. The reaction in the trad world was immediate and unsettled. Concertina player Zoran Donohoe recalled their first photo shoot breaking the internet: people simply did not know what to make of it. That was the point. Canny had long been known as someone willing to break rules, and her stated mission was direct — to change how women were represented in traditional music, in a landscape where major touring shows still projected an image she considered outdated.
The momentum built without design. Ed Sheeran saw them perform and invited them onto his stadium tour. They travelled to Australia and New Zealand, where the diaspora already knew their name before they arrived. Singer and flautist Miadhachlughain O'Donnell, reflecting on those early months, described the whole thing as happening in the blink of an eye — disorienting, almost unbelievable in its speed.
A debut album is now being recorded at Decoy Studios in England, drawing on original compositions and the ease the musicians have developed with one another. But what seems to matter most to O'Donnell is something quieter: the sight of young girls picking up instruments because they have seen women occupying that space with confidence and style. Whether BIIRD's story is a singular phenomenon or the beginning of a broader shift in how Irish traditional music is made and imagined remains an open question — one the debut album may help answer, or simply accompany.
Eleven women stood on the Trafalgar Square stage on St Patrick's Day 2024, most of them meeting hours before they were meant to perform. They had no album. They had no track record as a collective. They had only the music itself and the fact that someone—Canny, a seven-time All Ireland champion on harp and banjo—had decided they belonged together. Ten thousand people watched them play that afternoon. Two years later, BIIRD has sold out venues across the UK and Ireland, toured stadiums alongside Ed Sheeran, and built a following that spans continents, all without releasing a single record.
The rise feels almost implausible in its speed. There were no auditions, no strategic casting calls, no industry machinery grinding behind the scenes. Instead, Canny had woven relationships across the Irish traditional music world for years, and when she decided to assemble a supergroup, she simply called people she knew—musicians like Miadhachlughain O'Donnell, a singer and flautist from County Down, and Sal Heneghan, a fiddle player and harpist. The group grew to eleven members, though it shifts between eight and eleven depending on the production. O'Donnell remembers the disbelief in those early months. "It was mental, to be honest," she said. "It was done in the blink of an eye." After that first performance, there were no gigs for weeks. She didn't know where it would go.
What set BIIRD apart was not just the music—though the sound remains rooted in Irish tradition, weaving in lilting and a contemporary arrangement of drums, fiddles, flutes, harps, banjos, cello, and concertina. It was the image. Working with Irish designers and stylists, the group adopted a visual language that felt almost confrontational in its departure from folk convention: corsets, glitter, heavy eyeliner, dark tones, sustainable pieces from designers like Simone Rocha and Paul Costelloe. Concertina player Zoran Donohoe from County Cavan recalled the reaction. "Our first photo shoot kind of broke the internet," she said. "Everyone in the trad world was like, 'what the hell is going on here?'" The musicians themselves had to adjust. O'Donnell, accustomed to wearing tracksuits, found the restrictive costumes a learning curve. But the shock was the point. Canny had long held a reputation as "the baddie of trad," someone willing to break rules. Her stated mission was clear: to change how women were represented in traditional music. "There are these incredible shows that tour the world like Riverdance and Celtic Woman and Lord of the Dance, but the representation of women in these groups is still very much outdated," she said.
The word-of-mouth momentum was relentless. Ed Sheeran saw them and invited them to tour stadiums with him. They played Australia and New Zealand, where the Irish diaspora already knew about them. Heneghan, who had relocated to Sydney, was struck by how many people recognized the band before they even arrived. "When they heard that we were coming over and gigging, it was just incredible the feedback we all got," she said. The group has since toured back through the UK and Ireland, with plans to rejoin Sheeran in the United States later in the year.
All of this has happened without a debut album—though that is changing. The group has been working at Decoy Studios in Melton, England, recording what will include original compositions from Canny. Donohoe said the process has been smooth, the musicians comfortable enough with each other now to speak directly about any issues that arise. The album is coming together, she said.
What strikes O'Donnell most is the effect the group seems to be having on younger musicians, particularly girls. "I think people have definitely been inspired to pick up music and learn songs," she said. "When they see women in that space." She hopes BIIRD is laying groundwork for something that outlasts them—that other groups will emerge to fill the space they've opened. The phenomenon of an all-female Irish traditional supergroup, dressed in corsets and glitter, selling out stadiums without a record, feels like it might be the beginning of something rather than a moment. Whether the debut album will cement that or simply document what has already happened remains to be seen.
Citas Notables
It was mental, to be honest. It was done in the blink of an eye.— Miadhachlughain O'Donnell, singer and flautist
Our main objective, other than making beautiful music, is to change the image around women in trad and folk.— Canny, founder and harp and banjo champion
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
How does a group of eleven musicians who've never played together before walk onto a stage in front of ten thousand people and make it work?
They didn't walk in blind. Canny had spent years building relationships in the traditional music world. She knew these women's work, knew their capabilities. But yes, some of them met hours before that first performance. It was a leap of faith.
And then nothing happened for months after that?
No gigs for a couple of months. That's what O'Donnell said—she didn't know if it would go anywhere. It could have been a one-off, a St Patrick's Day spectacle. But the performance itself was strong enough that people talked about it.
The styling seems deliberately provocative. Corsets and glitter in a folk music context. Was that always the plan?
Not exactly. Canny wanted to challenge how women are represented in traditional music—the shows like Riverdance and Celtic Woman that tour globally but still present women in what she saw as outdated ways. The aesthetic emerged from that intention. But the musicians themselves were surprised by how far it went.
Did the look ever feel at odds with the music itself?
That's the thing—it doesn't. The sound is genuinely rooted in Irish tradition. The instruments, the arrangements, the lilting. The look is contemporary, yes, but it's not a reinvention. It's a reclamation. They're saying: this is what traditional music looks like now.
Ed Sheeran saw them and just invited them on tour?
That's how Donohoe described it. He was impressed and asked what they needed. It was that simple. But by then the momentum was already building through word of mouth.
What does it mean that they've done all this without a record?
It means the live performance is the thing. It's the proof. In an era where you can build an audience through streaming and social media, BIIRD built theirs by being in the room. That's almost old-fashioned now, and it's powerful.