When Nell Mescal was in her early teens, she dreamt of going to boarding school. Growing up in her small hometown of Maynooth, Ireland, she fell in love with Enid Blyton’s Malory Towers series of novels – their depictions of cosy dormitories, spectacular sea views and ivy-covered walls.
It was a far cry from the reality, where she struggled with bullying at her local school and eventually dropped out before taking her exams, aged 18. It was around this time that her eldest brother, Paul, was rocketing to international fame as the charming, sensitive Connell in Normal People, the BBC’s pitch-perfect adaptation of Sally Rooney’s debut novel. Four years since the show first aired, Paul is now a bona fide A-lister, nominated for an Oscar for his quietly soulful turn in Aftersun and soon to be stepping into Russell Crowe’s sandals as the lead in Ridley Scott’s keenly awaited Gladiator sequel.
Mescal, the youngest of three siblings, isn’t doing too badly herself. At 21, she’s released her debut EP, Can I Miss It for a Minute? and performed this month to a massive crowd on the same bill as Shania Twain at BST Hyde Park festival. It speaks to her clout that both Peter Mensch and the reclusive Cliff Burnstein – co-founders of the legendary management company Q Prime, to which Mescal is signed – were in the audience at her sold-out show at London’s Omeara in January.
She moved to London not long after dropping out of school to pursue music. Her parents – a retired police officer and a primary school teacher – trusted her decision. “They’d seen Paul do it and were like, well, he’s survived it,” she recalls. We’re sitting in one of her locals in north London, where she shares a flat with her older brother Donnacha, who works in recruitment. (“We’re friends, too, which is so nice, but it’s also OK if I scream at him for not filling the dishwasher.”) She and Paul look remarkably alike: her eyes are huge and round, a bright blue ocean beneath thick Keira Knightley brows. She has the same aquiline nose, the same strong jaw. Her profile wouldn’t look out of place on a Roman coin.
It was a difficult first year, living in a strange city with no friends: “It was so scary – there were some fun moments, but it was very lonely.” She was placed in writing rooms and started playing live, which was when things changed. Mescal channelled her feelings into her 2023 single “Homesick”, which has something of The Cure’s “Boys Don’t Cry” about it in the yearning synths and racing guitar riffs. She struggled to find someone who could record her voice in a way that felt right, eventually landing on producer and mixer Duncan Mills (LCD Soundsystem, Florence and the Machine).
Songs on Can I Miss It for a Minute? sit comfortably in the indie-folk or folk-pop spheres; Mescal says her sound is indebted to artists such as Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker (she trails off before name-checking the third and final member of boygenius, her brother’s ex, Phoebe Bridgers). There’s a dreamy, romantic quality to “Yellow Dresser”, with its soft piano notes and Mescal’s lilting voice. “Electric Picnic” is wonderful, incorporating subtle Americana elements with a slide guitar and deft picking on the banjo.
“[London] definitely feels like home now,” she says, “which is weird – I’m always afraid of saying that. Obviously, my home is Ireland, but I’ve created a life here that I really enjoy.” She considers that chapter, a fraught couple of years trying to find her way in the city, closed.
What will she write about next? “I tend to get these emotional blocks,” she explains. “I could write about my mum being sick, but now is not the time.” (Mescal’s mother, Dearbhla, shared that she was in remission from cancer in June). “Writing about it is [still] too hard,” she continues. “But I also don’t want to feel like I’m avoiding it because of that.”
Mescal is charming in her candour. I imagine she’s had a few tips from Paul, who was equally frank in his 2020 interview with The Independent. There is that same polite but firm resistance to the more superficial trappings of celebrity, even if Mescal still loved accompanying her brother to the Oscars last year.
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There was also, it seems, jealousy from some of her peers as Paul became one of the most in-demand (and lusted-after) actors of his generation. Mescal had already experienced bullying, the lasting effects of which she addresses about in her single, “Warm Body”, singing: “The girls got mean/ Before 15/ Their mothers taught ’em/ Everything.” It features on Can I Miss It for a Minute? swooning with lush guitars, moody bass and Mescal’s own sweetly plaintive voice, which will remind you of Orla Gartland and Andrea Corr.
“I look at that time and I’m very grateful to be away from it,” she says. “I’m grateful for all my experiences, but I definitely was going through things that I probably shouldn’t have been at that age.” She sounds particularly aggrieved at how other teenage girls “just decide you’re this person… and there’s nothing you can do about it. I worry about when I’m older, like, is this bitchiness ever going to end between women?”
She’s similarly irked by allegations of nepotism aimed at her from certain critics. “I was already a musician when [Paul got famous],” she says. If anything, she feels as though she pulled back. “I don’t want it to seem like I’m salty about it, because I understand from an outsider’s perspective, they’re seeing one person get famous and [another] person figuring out what they’re doing.” The reality – that she grafted and played shows to a handful of people, growing her audience, and building her career the traditional way – clearly fills her with pride.
I want to be doing this when I’m 70 until I actually can’t do it anymore
“Especially now, with this EP, I hope that anyone who thinks that that’s the only reason I’m doing it, listens and realises that I don’t just want to be here for a TikTok moment or whatever,” she says. “I want to be doing this when I’m like, 70, until I actually can’t do it anymore.” The nepo-baby accusations would make more sense if Paul was in the music industry, too, she thinks, “but it’s so separate – I don’t think people realise just how far apart music and film are. When I go to those events with him, I’m just a fly on the wall, running around.”
They’re at least able to laugh about the more outlandish rumours, such as the one about Paul – often the subject of viral photos thanks to his penchant for O’Neills GAA shorts – supposedly taking his dates for a walk in the park the next morning, then sprinting away and leaving them standing there. “We find it really funny, because they’re never true, are they, like… who is making this up?!” Mescal says. Yet she also gets frustrated at not being able to respond: “To not be able to go, ‘F*** you guys, it’s not true,’ I find that pretty hard,” she admits. “It makes my skin crawl.”
When she first set out in her career, she was warned that people would treat her differently. It couldn’t have been further from her experience: “I found that more people fell away,” she shrugs. “They get weird about it.” At the heart of everything is a desire to protect her family, who she knows will be there no matter what. You’d be hard-pressed to find a more tight-knit bunch. “I know I’ve got them,” Mescal says, smiling again. “I’m so lucky.”
‘Can I Miss It For a Minute?’ is out now. Nell Mescal performs at Wilderness Festival on Sunday 4 August