“All of a sudden, you’re it”. From their very outset in 2013, Circa Waves have endeavoured to soundtrack the invincibility of youth. That feeling of being indestructible permeates any of the band’s setlists, bringing with them an energy the Liverpudlian four-piece are known for. What happens, then, when that comfort comes crashing down? Sitting in a hospital bathroom awaiting life saving surgery, frontman Kieran Shudall found himself asking just that. From Springsteen’s Nebraska to Lennon’s Plastic Ono Band, there’s little that adds to an album more than good old-fashioned introspection. Where Bruce saw a ‘Mansion On the Hill’, however, Shudall’s brush with eternity had him and his band dreaming about the same indie club nights that now play their music. That’s not to say Death & Love, Pt.1 doesn’t feature a touching vulnerability befitting its title – it’s arguably Circa Waves’ most emotional work yet – but that the fear and pain of life on a hospital bed is channelled into a familiar, euphoric listen.
The album isn’t revolutionary by any means – its lyrics, especially on ‘Let’s Leave Together’, can often feel rather uninspired, especially in comparison to the sheer poetry some of 2024’s releases had guitar music aficionados accustomed to. Crucially, though, Death & Love doesn’t have to be groundbreaking; in their lead singer’s own words, the Liverpudlians aren’t trying to make Pet Sounds.
Opening track ‘American Dream’ has a Green Day-esque title but feels more like the 2015 indie scene’s answer to ‘Motorcycle Boy’. It continuously builds, getting the hopeful message of the album off to a solid start, despite repetition of the track’s title running a touch dry by the end. Shudall works criticism of the titular suburban fantasy into his lyrics – “sign my life away for a dozen dimes” – discussing deeper themes than on previous records without sacrificing the band’s signature sound. ‘Like You Did Before’, by comparison, spends no time slow-burning. Sam Rourke has an excellent 40 minutes on bass across the album, but the mix on this song in particular really allows his four-string to shine.
‘We Made It’ has a title that speaks for itself. The anthem of a band rejuvenated by adversity, it encapsulates the “new lease of life” Kieran Shudall attributes this LP to. Together with neighbouring track ‘Le Bateau’, the song marks the album’s high point. Sure, the former is a triumphant celebration of the human condition, and the latter is named for an old Merseyside nightclub, but they’re both equally as touching. The eponymous scouse hotspot may now be fancy-pants gin bar, but as the track’s ‘The End Has No End’-reminiscent intro rattles in, you’d think it was 2003 all over again. The Strokes aren’t the only influence either, with another excellent bassline from Rourke that wouldn’t sound misplaced in a New Order single. The album in general takes inspiration from many artists from Casablancas to The Cure, yet retains a fresh feel throughout. Death & Love Pt.1 is a love letter, not a tribute act – “If I make one last record – it needs to be the music that I really love”.
The admission that “I’m not ready to sink beneath the waves” should ntroduce a more mellow section of the LP – one that brings death and love to Death & Love. However, its track ‘Hold It Steady’ is separated from similarly vulnerable piece ‘Blue Damselfly’ by the aforementioned romp that is ‘Let’s Leave Together’. The song is a genuinely touching recollection of how meeting his wife was a tonic for Shudall’s social anxiety, but its somewhat generic, poppy indie sound interrupts what could have been a more evocative section of the record, blurring the album’s identity somewhat. Regardless, ‘Blue Damselfly’ is brilliant in its authenticity. Written at the hospital, this track isn’t any old “Goodbye” but a raw, fearful message from a father and husband to his young family – one play immediately reveals why the track’s author can’t bear to listen to it anymore.
Unlike the frustration of ‘Let’s Leave Together’, Death & Love’s final two tracks are placed well to bring a satisfying ending. On a record all about finding a goldmine in every silver lining (to pinch one of the band’s own lyrics), ‘Everything Changed’ and ‘Bad Guys Always Win’ brings the feel-good home following some real heart-wrenchers. Their infectious, feet-tapping energy typifies what Circa Waves are all about. It’s not Shakespeare (who by all accounts wasn’t hugely active in Liverpool’s indie scene) and Shudall himself is the first to admit his band won’t be “studied like Bob Dylan or Leonard Cohen”, but – to put it bluntly – Who cares?
Words by Dylan Seymour