I don’t want to be ingratiated upon in any way, shape or form. I have a strong aversion to people trying to ingratiate themselves. In certain parts of the world where people are blowing smoke, I’ve an absolute allergy to it. “I have a strong aversion to anyone in a scene-y way. But it’s a really dangerous slope to be on,” he says, picking at a modest spread of tea and Tunnock’s tea cakes in the empty bar of Dublin’s Gaiety Theatre. “I’ve witnessed people who are on a slippery slope, especially young men who fall into a scene or whatever or a place in the world.It’s just a playground for people whose stars have quickly risen. As Hozier – he turns 29 on St Patrick’s Day – prepares for the release next week of his second album Wasteland, Baby!, he says he maintains that balance by refusing to play the fame game. We exercise proud national ownership whenever the British claim one of our own (we’re looking at you, Saoirse), and show occasional flares of begrudgery if we feel they’re too big for their boots or we have a problem with how they pay their taxes (yes, Bono, that’s you). We’re very sensitive about our superstars here in Ireland. And there, quietly among them all, lies Hozier. Reduce it to the mononymous – Elvis, Madonna, Beyoncé – and you’re down to a handful of individuals. Household-name-around-the-world superstardom is even rarer.
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