Back again with their highly anticipated third album, Irish quintet ‘The Murder Capital’ releases a bold new post-punk revival album that builds on the scaffolding of previous albums both sonically and lyrically. Having just wrapped up a European tour with Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, they return in Blindness reinvigorated, with an album that flirts with the balance of tenderness and violence unique to their sound. Full of interesting guitar riffs and lyrical compositions, the band experiments with various sounds and paces that can both soothe restlessness and incite it. The Murder Capital oscillates between doses of heaviness, playfulness, delicacy, and tenderness, without becoming diluted by one or the other.

Grappling with themes of patriotism, faith, and loneliness, The Murder Capital tries to sift through the rubbish of social and political constructs and habitude to find something True, expressing the value of being aware of what you can and can’t see and of questioning everything. “Blindness is the warped belief. The behind us. The secluded. Love at a distance. Faith in denial. Distorted patriotism. The fading face of moments in the rearview.”

The construction of the music on this album subscribed to a more spontaneous nature than previous albums, culminating in a sound that is less constrained and more organic, which proves to be in its favor. The band noted that previous albums, which were more refined and cinematic resulted in a more rigid live performance. “We started to feel like we wanted to just get into the essence of the fucking tunes” singer James McGoverns reflects.

In the opener of the album, we are thrown into the deep end with a post-punk anthem, mosh-pit dream, ‘Moonshot’. “We wanted to needle-drop straight into the feeling of these tunes.” McGovern shares. The opening track immediately takes a step up energetically from the pacing of their last album Gigi’s Recovery which, while incredible in its own right, was rejected in its first draft for being ‘fucking depressing’. Blindness, however, loudly launches us headfirst into the album, plunging us into its depths without allowing us to take a breath. The track closes off with a pitch souring and withered, reminiscent of the closing notes in Marilyn Manson’s rendition of ‘Sweet Dreams’.

One of the more contagious melodies on the album, ‘Words Lost Meaning’ opens with a grimy 90s, Pixies-esque guitar riff. Thematically, it intermingles the concerns and concepts shared between religion and romantic love. ‘Oversensitive and underreaching, Jesus can’t you leave us in our bedroom sheets. Devour hours under loveless ceilings,’ McGovern croons. It makes you wonder how long until a ritual practiced out of love begins to lose its meaning after exhaustive repetition, including the devoted phrase ‘I love you’.

‘Can’t Pretend To Know’ is another standout track, with a distant, despondent siren wailing in the background, over a rushing, erratic guitar. The track carries you in a wild, kaleidoscopic rush through a Van Gogh-like landscape of swirling elements, vibrant colors, and occasional guitar twangs.

The band shows off their capacity for flexibility and flows into a more indie, psychedelic-pop vibe in the catchy tune ‘A Distant Life’, complete with a groovy base and a bit of tasteful cowbell. The token love song of the album, McGovern contemplates the more unpleasant feelings that come with love, but eventually he comes up hopeful, ‘No words in vain, our distant love is worth its weight in pain,’.

At the epicenter of the album, ‘Love of Country,’ contains reflections of nationalism and patriotism, and how often pride in a nation results in intolerance for individuals. “Can you blame me for mistaking your love of country with hate of man?” The next track, ‘The Fall’, is an allusion to the Genesis story and the transition of man from a state of innocence to disobedience. ‘The fall is coming, it’s always coming’. On an album centered around blindness and true seeing, the fall fits in as a symbol for the irreversible nature of critical knowledge and its power. Once you see, you can’t unsee. The Murder Capital is only just in the middle of coaxing us to take our blindfolds off.

Expressing their range and flexibility as a band, we see songs galloping and wild like ‘Moonshot’ and ‘Can’t Pretend to Know’, and others more mellow and tame like ‘Swallow’ and ‘Trailing a Wing’. More musically interesting and experimental than their previous album, Blindness feels looser and untethered, but in a way that will feel exhilarating and invigorating at their live concerts. Each song proves to be refreshing, dynamic, and offers something new, with an underlying essence of rebellion and hope that strings them all together.

Pre-order Blindness by The Mirder Capital HERE