Blindness, the third album from Dublin five-piece The Murder Capital, is a bold statement from a band that continues to refine and redefine its sound. Emerging from the raw, grief-laden intensity of their 2019 debut, When I Have Fears, and the introspective depth of 2023’s Gigi’s Recovery, Blindness strikes a delicate yet powerful balance between the two. The result is a stunning fusion of raw emotion and meticulous songwriting. Recorded in just three weeks in Los Angeles with producer John Congleton, the album captures the urgency of a band fully embracing immediacy and creative freedom.
The album opens with unreleased track ‘Moonshot’, acting as a shock to the system and bringing us back to the raw power which made their debut so gripping. It’s an explosive introduction, setting the tone for an album that grips from the outset. Clocking in at just 2 minutes and 30 seconds, it’s a concise yet powerful opener, solidifying the idea that a strong start often leads to a great record. ‘Words Lost Meaning’ follows, standing out as one of the album’s strongest singles, showcasing frontman McGovern reflecting on the dilution of love’s language. Built around the lyric “say I love you, the words lost meaning,” the burning ballad lingers with melancholic weight. This track signals the beginning of a powerful three-song stretch, leading into ‘Can’t Pretend to Know’, where the band’s guitar work reaches its relentless peak. The urgent pacing makes it a highlight, embodying the band’s decision to strip back overcomplication and let their instincts guide them. McGovern’s lyrics along with the pacing, tap into themes of identity and the struggle to define oneself, reinforcing the album’s overarching motifs. Meanwhile, ‘A Distant Life’, which was released as a single only earlier this week, is one of the album’s more infectious moments. With its groovy, danceable rhythm and standout lyric, “cut the tension with scissors, I’ll leave the knife on the shelf,” it captures a playfulness rarely seen in their work, demanding movement in a moment that acts as a welcome contrast to the brooding intensity that defines much of Blindness. ‘Born Into the Fight’ slows things down with delicate piano tones before erupting into an angry, impassioned chorus reminiscent of the band’s earlier material. There’s a simmering rage beneath the surface, making it one of the most dynamic moments on the album.
This leads into ‘Love of Country’, the album’s longest track and arguably its most emotionally resonant. A six-minute ballad on Irish identity and patriotism, frontman James McGovern has openly discussed his conflicted feelings about nationalism and immigration, and the song’s lyrics reflect this internal struggle. It’s a deeply emotional track, rich with layered instrumentation and slow-building intensity. ‘The Fall’ picks up the pace after the weighty themes but ultimately feels like the weakest of the singles. While it serves its purpose in resetting the album’s momentum, it doesn’t hit as hard due to the sheer quality of the tracks surrounding it. Fortunately, ‘Death of a Giant’ follows—one of the album’s finest moments. Written after attending the funeral procession of Shane MacGowan, it’s a tribute to a post-punk legend, adding a personal touch to the grief felt by so many across Ireland while capturing it in a frantic manner.
The album closes with ‘Trailing a Wing’, a slower and more reflective piece that serves as a beautiful conclusion. It offers a moment of pause, a final breath before the album fades into silence. It’s a fitting end to a record that, at its core, is about love—its presence, its absence, and the ways in which we come to understand it. The Murder Capital, now spread across Dublin, Paris, Berlin, and London, have channelled their experiences of distance and change into an album that feels both deeply personal and universally resonant. With its balance of urgency and introspection, Blindness is a testament to a band that continues to evolve while staying true to the raw energy that made them so compelling in the first place; artists fully in control of their craft. It’s a record that doesn’t linger in the past but instead charges forward, unflinching and unafraid. If When I Have Fears was a statement of grief, and Gigi’s Recovery a reflection on change, Blindness finds The Murder Capital standing in the present, embracing the unknown with confidence. It’s a thrilling, emotionally charged record that solidifies their place at the forefront of modern post-punk.
Words by Amelia Thompson