Words by Henry Delap-Smith
While lacking some of the originality of their first two efforts, The Murder Capital’s third album Blindness is an extremely capable and well-written project exploring themes of emotional disconnection and a political climate that has become impossible to ignore.
The Murder Capital are a band that have never sat still. Emerging around the same time as fellow Dubliners Fontaines D.C., their debut album When I Have Fears blended the intensity of punk with post-rock experimentation to create something genuinely moving, centred around the suicide of a friend. They followed this with Gigi’s Recovery, a record that broadened their sound, sacrificing some of their raw intensity for careful song constructions and a slight pop tilt. Blindness represents another radical change in sound, although to one that seems markedly less their own: the band has offered up a much more traditional rock or post-punk album in a move that feels very deliberate. Frontman James McGovern says that “in writing the songs, our feeling was: piss or get off the pot. We wanted to needle-drop straight into the feeling of these tunes.” This is an album where the band have come in with something to say, and feel a more direct style is the way to do it.
The album starts with a bang. Driven by propulsive drums, ‘Moonshot’ is a great track that pulsates with energy and makes use of McGovern’s powerful vocals. It’s followed by two of the singles – ‘Words Lost Meaning’ and ‘Can’t Pretend to Know’. Both present a very similar brand of post-punk to the opener, although the former offers more unique lyrics. The song explores McGovern’s experience balancing a relationship and being on tour as well as the broader alienation from regular life being a touring musician creates, and sees him sing “I never need to say I love you, the words lost meaning”.
Next up is ‘A Distant Life’, a shift into a more mellow and emotive sound than the previous three songs. It sustains the themes of ‘Words Lost Meaning’ although with a more romantic view and a focus on longing. The next two tracks are the best of the album. Both are outwardly political, slower and more ballad-like than much of the rest of the album. ‘Born Into the Fight’ documents the feeling of the world becoming more uncertain and hostile, playing over warm keys and drums that evoke much of their second album. Eventually this builds to a passionate chorus where McGovern screams the title over wailing guitars. Meanwhile, ‘Love of Country’ documents the rise of nationalism and xenophobia as well as its intersection with wider societal issues, displaying some of the band’s best song writing. It ranges from the personal – “just kids reaching out to daydreams when our homes had lost their shapes” – to the societal – “could you blame me for mistaking your love of country for hate of man”. The song is the longest of the album and one of the band’s best works to date.
It’s followed, though, by ‘The Fall’, which is unfortunately the most forgettable track on the album. It resumes the tone of the opening three songs, indicating that the much more interesting approaches of the two prior tracks have worn out. Next is ‘Death of A Giant’, a powerful tribute to Shane MacGowan of legendary Irish band The Pogues, featuring a more original punchy guitar riff. McGovern describes the song as a cathartic release of emotion following the death of a talismanic figure within Irish music.
The band then return to a mellower tone on ‘Swallow’, which feels dreamier than any of the other songs on the album. It makes use of a string segment, interesting distortion and a slower pace to explore the experience of needing independence from a relationship. In the chorus, McGovern sings “I need you to go, so you don’t swallow me whole”. ‘That Feeling’ is similarly diminished, with romantic but tetchy lyrics imploring a partner to “come down off your cross, I’ll give you everything but time”. It returns to the earlier focus on the challenges of distance in romantic relationships, and eventually builds into a sense of release through breakneck guitar and drum work. The album closer completely calms the storm, with even sparser instrumentation than the previous two tracks and more genuinely sweet lyrics coupled with a palpable sense of nostalgia – “you’d come with nothing but perfection”.
Overall, this is an album that works best when it moves further away from the traditional post-punk sound it’s based around. While all the tracks are good, the originality and emotiveness present on the mellower cuts is far more appealing than the intensity they bring into play on others. There are clear comparisons to be drawn with their compatriots Fontaines D.C., namely in their thematic exploration of being away from home and the generally more accessible sound on this album than in some of their earlier efforts. Another band they sound akin to here is Wunderhorse, particularly when comparing some of the mellower and longer tracks both bands have made. Ultimately, though, the Murder Capital have made an enjoyable and interesting album that’s well worth a listen.
