hen Irish rockers Fontaines DC emerged in 2019, they were a bunch of post-punk poets making abrasive guitar music at a time when Dance Monkey, Drake and The Greatest Showman reigned supreme. But today, as their fifth album Dopamine Chamber is released, the quintet are looking towards a 2027 filled with gigs in UK stadiums, US arenas and headline slots at big European festivals – plus rumours of topping Glastonbury's Pyramid stage. It's quite a trajectory.

Their rise has been strangely traditional for a time when social media has culture in a chokehold. Ever more ambitious albums, the support of radio and institutions such as the BBC, and a lot of touring have all played parts. Beyond that, "fact is, they're one of the best bands in the world," says fellow countryman Mo Chara, one third of Kneecap.

Fontaines DC formed at the BIMM Music Institute in Dublin in 2014. The school's dean, Alan Cullivan, describes them as having had "an absolute focus. It was all about writing a better song after a better song after a better song." They'd apparently play to 30 people in a dive bar one week, then come back three weeks later and half the songs would be new.

That caught the attention of Trevor Dietz, who became their manager and was described by Fontaines as "the sixth member of the band" when he died earlier this year. "He brought this unwavering sense of self-belief, and that was very contagious," says Jeff Bell, who'd end up signing the band to Partisan Records.

Dietz's connections brought Fontaines into orbits outside the Dublin gig circuit. By 2017 the band had released the single Liberty Belle and Dietz introduced them to south London band Shame, who were playing their first headline Dublin shows. "We went on this tour together for our first album," remembers Shame singer Charlie Steen. "It felt like they had their own crowd even with just a few songs out – it's one thing to have that in Dublin, but it's another thing to have it in Leicester." He adds that Fontaines' frontman Grian Chatten "gave me a Yeats book to read on that tour": typical of the singer's unashamed poetic leanings.

BBC Radio 6 Music's Steve Lamacq was an early champion of the band around the same time. "They sent us the self-released seven-inch of Hurricane Laughter, and we played that a couple of times – it had a power and an atmosphere that a lot of records around at the time didn't really have," he recalls.

In March 2018 the band played the Victoria in Dalston, east London, a tiny pub backroom. In the crowd was Lamacq, enthralled by Chatten's stage presence, and Bell, who flew to Dublin the next week to sign them. "As soon as I met them, it was clear that they were the biggest band in the world," Bell says. "It just hadn't happened yet."

The label developed a clear gameplan with the band. "There were two guiding principles: authenticity and urgency," Bell says. "If the mixes weren't right, start again. If an edit didn't feel right, it didn't go to radio. If a writer didn't get it, don't do the interview. We also made a point of showcasing the lyrics wherever we could; that was a real point of access for a lot of people." After their 2019 debut album Dogrel went Top 10 in the UK and Ireland, the Covid lockdown could have scuppered them, like it did so many small acts on the rise. But instead of cancelling releases as others did, they pressed ahead with the release of their second album, A Hero's Death, which was nominated for a Grammy.

The enormous crowds that Fontaines DC now command are not a result of pandering to the TikTok algorithm, though, even mid-lockdown. The band has a presence on social media, but they haven't done viral video series such as Hot Ones, Chicken Shop Date or Subway Takes. "They are one of those artists that has very quickly become contrarian to the rule, where they've taken a less-is-more approach," says Liam Ward, founder of music-focused social media marketing agency Something Something.

That doesn't stop Fontaines having hardcore fans who film entire shows for social media and, in Ward's opinion, this fan activity online is organic (as opposed to manufactured by legions of fake accounts, as deployed by some of their indie peers). "I have not even heard rumours or whispers [of that]," he says. "They put out what they put out, and all of that craziness and noise happens around them."

Their previous album, 2024's Romance, which came with DayGlo artwork and rave-adjacent new looks for the members, was derided by some early fans as too pop but became their first platinum seller in the UK and Ireland and earned another couple of Grammy noms. Dopamine Chamber, raved about in a five-star review in the Guardian, is just as strange and arresting. "Arctic Monkeys, in a way, have done a brilliant job setting up a space for Fontaines by being a really interesting rock band who have evolved a lot since the early days," Lamacq says. "There's a new, younger audience who are perhaps more lyrically led. They like the vocabulary as well as the music."

Kneecap's Mo Chara says Fontaines' political leanings, citing a homelessness benefit show the band curated, and their stance against the genocide in Palestine, further endeared the group to him and many others. He adds: "If you're making music as good as they are, the mainstream can't ignore it, but it feels like they were making music their own way and not to appeal to the masses. The mainstream has come to them rather than the other way round."

There are plenty of bands making amazing music who don't reach the upper echelons of commercial success, though. For Abel González, who is on the booking team for Barcelona's Primavera festival, "it's all about feelings". Fontaines first played the festival on a small stage in 2018, but next year they're among the big-name headliners. "Every time they've come back to the festival, they've had new things to say, and we've wanted to hear them."

The true reason for Fontaines DC's dizzying rise likely lies somewhere in the middle of a complex Venn diagram: a once-a-generation confluence of talent, commitment, good people and luck. The consensus seems to be that there's no limit to how massive they could become. Bell agrees, still rabidly enthusiastic about the band even after they've moved from Partisan to current label XL Recordings. "They still haven't reached the top of their mountain. I'm excited to see where it keeps going."