It’s an unfortunate reality that bands over here in the United States just don’t have the same sort of “umph” that I’ve become absolutely hooked on — whether it’s the combination of screaming, senseless guitars and blunt, preacher-esque vocal styles or the poignant, oftentimes politically-rooted poetry that is carried across, I’ve found myself hypnotized by the post-punk scene rooted across the pond. Among that eclectic group of musicians within the genre comes a band who is sure to be widely talked about soon, if not already: Dublin quintet, The Murder Capital.
Rising in prominence neck-and-neck with fellow Dublin locals, Fontaines D.C., The Murder Capital — comprised of members James McGovern, Gabirel Paschal Blake, Diarmuid Brennan, Damien Tuit, and Cathal Roper — have done anything but fall beneath the shadow of their peers; rather, they’ve managed to forge their own path, despite being pigeon-holed into a similar category.
Recently off playing a show-stopping set at the Wolf Alice-headlined Truck Fest 2019, the band graces us with their debut release, When I Have Fears on August 16.
The band teased the record with a sneak peak, an EP entitled More Is Less, that dropped two days before the record was unveiled in all its glory. “Don’t cling to life, there’s nothing on the other side,” McGovern discourages via EP inclusion, “Don’t Cling to Life,” providing a pessimistic view on the aforementioned concept of death and whether or not an afterlife or some form of heaven might even exist. Death and existentialism seem to be common themes explored by The Murder Capital, fittingly enough.
Starting from the beginning, listeners are greeted with a lull hum — about a minute in length — then, as “For Everything” progresses, the band abruptly dives into a heavy, growling frenzy in one foul swoop. Grabbing your audience as immediately as possible so as to ensure that you’ll retain their attention is absolutely vital, especially with a debut record; after listening to the opening track, it was easy to consider myself attentive, let alone clung to the edge of my seat for dear life.
Their name (and philosophy), though bleakly related to death (and the real-life suicide of their dear friend), have the ability to draw you in immediately, mostly with questions — what does it mean, to capitalize on such a brutal part of life (or death, for that matter)? For The Murder Capital, this is a question that they, too, must explore.
This record, despite being harsh and razor-sharp is ultimately vulnerable — after all, it is entitled When I Have Fears, not When I Have Overwhelming Joy. “I am a weightless diamond, terrified and free,” lead singer James McGovern bellows, as if trying to psyche himself out of his insecurities via a booming tone. As described via their Spotify biography, what’s most enthralling about The Murder Capital isn’t their sheer abrasiveness, but their portrayal of “a most extreme vision of tenderness”—that tenderness, that passion is translated effortlessly through this record.
Melancholy ballad, “How the Streets Adore Me Now,” for example, reads as if it’s a reflection, a eulogy for himself. The song’s title, alone, makes me immediately think of the phenomenon wherein after an artist is gone, they’re art is better appreciated and remembered — the “brooding streets” this song describes are cold, bleak, and unforgiving, and for anyone, it’s easy to feel invisible as you trek the cobblestone isle.
McGovern’s mumbled delivery only adds to the sluggish atmosphere this track creates, allowing it to become a perfect track to listen to whilst woefully staring out the window into a storm-filled sky and maybe letting a few tears escape.
Part of their brilliance is their duality — their ability to effortlessly create slow-paced, dreamy melodies and later, ascend into utter chaos. Noting the difference between nostalgic “On Twisted Ground” and guitar-heavy, head-smashing EP title track, “More Is Less,” for example, that eclectic range is made abundantly clear. Throughout listening to this release, listeners are given free rein to experience a mass sum of emotions: you can feel empowered to scream along to lines such as, “In the rain the romance will say goodbye” of “Love, Love, Love” but also take moments to reflect during “Slow Dance[s] I & II.”
Once acquainted with The Murder Capital — as many were when the band appeared to come out of nowhere with the release of their single, “Feeling Fades” earlier this year—it’s difficult to look the other way. This record only cements their eventual spot in the world’s collective consciousness — it’s only a matter of time until we all develop a deep, Dublin drawl.