Mikernan Arrell’s music is a rare and satisfying fusion of genres. Take a pinch of folk, a jug of jig, a hearty mug of alternative country, and top it off with some honest-to-god rock you and your dad might enjoy equally — that’s his sound. The closest comparison is probably Richard Thompson, who’s dipped his toes into all of these worlds too. But Mikernan’s voice is unmistakably his own.

His fingerprint is all over the music — in the depth, the melodic punch, and a certain restless vitality that’s hard to pin to any single genre or stylistic trick. And in the most literal sense, too: this one-man-band virtuoso performed every instrument and handled the recording, mixing, and mastering himself.

The three songs on the On My Travels EP mark the opening chapter of a full-length album, slated for release later this year.

The first song takes no prisoners starting the EP with what feels almost like a gut-punch:

Okaaaaay... I'm not even 35, I'm turning 39 at the end of the month, and I'm currently feeling literally like the character of this song. But the gut punch here is delivered in a shiny wrapping. The music is so sweet that living through this song becomes a sort of unheard and unseen meditation. The rhythm carries you on like a galloping horse and the guitars are almost bursting with joy. They say the best songs on this Earth are bittersweet. This one absolutely earns that title.

Plastic Bags fuses Irish folk with pop punk and a splash of twee. The song is — you guessed it — about the oceans choking on millions of plastic bags. It’s a heavy topic, but once again it’s delivered with disarming vitality and joy. Instead of preaching, the track pulls you in with bounce, color, and momentum.

The real highlight here is the sudden choir injections that turn the whole thing into a pirate sing-along — the kind of phrases you can imagine being yelled by a drunken crew at some windswept harbor. And there’s something oddly perfect about that image. In today’s world, people who actually care about ecology can feel like outlaws — like pirates sailing against the current of convenience, profit, and collective apathy.

It sounds crazy. But if the world itself is crazy, then the songs that try to wake us up have to be even crazier to catch our attention. Plastic Bags understands this instinctively: it smuggles an uncomfortable truth inside a tune so joyful you can’t help but sing along to the warning.

The One and Only Micka is probably the catchiest song on the EP. The vocals are right in your face, just like the character himself: sitting on a porch with his bottles, obscene stories, and a moral codex, rock-solid in an old-fashioned way. All of that spills straight into the song, turning Micka into an instantly lovable mess of a human being.

The chorus doesn’t just stick — it’s almost hammered into your head, looping back on its own for days after the track is over (the supporting melodic arpeggio definitely helps). Add the infusion of Irish music to the mix, and the song’s sound palette becomes instantly recognizable. It’s loud, colorful, a little chaotic — and totally unforgettable.

Taken as a whole, On My Travels EP feels like a small but vivid map of a much bigger emotional territory. These three songs move between self-doubt and stubborn joy, ecological grief and rowdy sing-alongs, lovable misfits and hard-earned honesty. It’s music that knows the world is messy and often absurd — and chooses to answer that mess not with cynicism, but with melody, movement, and heart. If this EP is the opening chapter, then the full-length promises a journey worth sticking around for.