“Blindness is the warped belief. The behind us. Faith in denial. Distorted patriotism. The fading face of moments in the rearview. Blindness brings it all into focus.” This is how The Murder Capital’s frontman James McGovern describes the band’s third record: with contrasting metaphors, visual references, and a bit of anger, Blindness comes alive.
There is no denying that The Murder Capital are one of the most prominent names in the newer rock and post-punk environment, alongside other names like Fontaines D.C. and Wunderhorse. The Dublin-based group has set out a precise evolution of their sound, style and career in general. Starting from a softer, more introspective aesthetic debut When I Have Fears to a more emotional and personal post-punk record Gigi’s Recovery. And now, as listeners, we have reached the band’s highest peak, full of determination, willingness to be heard, and a warped sense of patriotism in the latest instalment Blindness.
The title encapsulates perfectly the sensation of listening to the first track, ‘Moonshot’, which kickstarts the 11-songs-long list like a punch in the guts. With heavy and reverberated guitars, McGovern’s voice echoes in the background as if it was heard in the distance. The chorus takes a slightly more hopeful turn, with major chords that give a pleasant resolution in the cacophonous backtrack, which includes pounding drums. There is a smooth transition to the next two tracks, which were also chosen as singles: ‘Words Lost Meaning’ and ‘Can’t Pretend to Know’. These songs maintain the sombre and solemn tone of the record, adding more energy in the latter, which explodes in a guitar riff and gets in the listener’s head with the repetitiveness of the chorus.
While Blindness includes a couple of filler tracks, which perhaps might feel slightly forced, such as the Beach Boys-esque ‘A Distant Life’ and the upbeat ‘Death of a Giant’, there are also a couple of brilliant gems. One is the 6-minute-long ballad ‘Love of Country’. When speaking to The Indiependent, McGovern said that this song was the musical moment he was most proud of in his, and The Murder Capital’s, whole career.
Talking about his memoir Surrender, Bono said: “You see rock and roll, if it’s anything, it’s the sound of liberation, political, spiritual, sexual, it’s liberation.” And this is what McGovern meant when he told us Blindness left behind its post-punk shades and assumed a form closer to rock and roll. While it is a pretty basic ballad, instrumentally speaking, it is lyrically an enlightening hymn to freedom, political dissonance and personal, intimate doubts. The Irish outfit has always been very vocal about causes they deem important, such as the tragic genocide of Palestinian people, and they even revolved all the proceedings from the download of ‘Love of Country’ to the cause. Human beings need to ask questions, and it is truly a cathartic moment when McGovern asks “Could you blame me for mistaking your love of Country for hate of men?”
The juxtaposition of a calm yet so heavy track with the roaring single ‘The Fall’, which immediately follows, symbolises the calm before the storm. This aspect is also embodied by the best three tracks on the album, which are also the last ones: ‘Swallow’, ‘That Feeling’ and ‘Trailing a Wing’. The former, in particular, has comforting synths in the background, which then fall into a symphony with a plucked electric guitar and a rhythmic drum. It is reminiscent of the Gigi’s Recovery days, a good reminder that the old Murder Capital are still there. They are just a bit angrier now.
McGovern’s voice is as warm as ever, with its signature raspy traits and almost calming qualities. The experimentalism of this record has to be admired and appreciated, and the fact that the band waited until the last few songs to go back to their more introspective roots, with more melodic streaks and softer instrumentals shows that, as angry as we can be, sometimes we need a quieter moment to collect our thoughts.
The calmest, most soothing track is indeed the last one. ‘Trailing a Wing’ includes these blues-like guitars, accompanied by lyrics narrating love, hope and freedom. “Don’t want nothing you don’t believe in”, McGovern sings, while a beautiful guitar outro opens up and closes the album.
Generally speaking, Blindness leaves a very different aftertaste than the previous two works. While it might feel slightly forced at times, the bigger picture is that the Irish band had to step up their game to find new ventures. The context of the writing of this record was also significantly different than the other two since, for instance, Gigi’s Recovery was written during the pandemic when McGovern and co were living together in a cottage. Blindness, on the other hand, was written all around the world, while all the band members were living in different places and environments. All the influences, the inspirations, are palpable in each song. And, as McGovern explained, Blindness is supposed to bring things into focus. Sometimes it takes just a little longer.
Words by Silvia Pellegrino
Support The Indiependent
We’re trying to raise £200 a month to help cover our operational costs. This includes our ‘Writer of the Month’ awards, where we recognise the amazing work produced by our contributor team. If you’ve enjoyed reading our site, we’d really appreciate it if you could donate to The Indiependent. Whether you can give £1 or £10, you’d be making a huge difference to our small team.