The Murder Capital have sat at the forefront of Ireland’s post-punk boom over the past decade. Their first two albums, 2019's When I Have Fears and 2023's Gigi’s Recovery, are defining records of the genre’s revival, while illustrating the strength of the Dublin scene alongside the likes of Fontaines D.C., Sprints, Gilla Band and more.
In each chapter, the quintet - now scattered across Ireland, London, and Europe - have created intense, emotional tapestries that capture both introspective and outward-facing issues. On Blindness, however, they lean further into raucous noise to reflect a wider sense of confusion and uncertainty, even if the record as a whole lacks some of the passion of their best earlier work.
Blindness opens with the rowdy, in-your-face noise-rock of Moonshot, a harsher take on their typical fare, which returns in the cacophonous chorus of The Fall and the grungier Can’t Pretend To Know. These moments of commotion tend to eclipse the slower, sparser, and more pedestrian moments like Swallow and That Feeling, which aim to bring the band’s poetic lyricism to the fore.
In its delivery, Blindness never fully captures the sharp melancholia that The Murder Capital have been known for on previous albums. Born Into The Fight is the closest we come to the raw sentiment of earlier songs like Ethel, but it never quite reaches the same emotional peak.
As ever, lyrics take on both personal, introspective topics and look at society on a broader scale. Words Lost Meaning details a relationship in crisis, while Love of Country questions the staunch nationalism in abundance nowadays that often manifests as hatred of others.
One particularly notable moment on the album is Death of a Giant, a direct ode to The Pogues' former leader Shane MacGowan, was inspired by the band’s attendance at his funeral procession in Dublin. As a new generation of Irish musicians mourns the loss of one of the country’s greatest voices, this is likely not the last elegy we will hear dedicated to the much-missed icon.
Blindness captures a specific moment in time for The Murder Capital. A time of uncertainty and confusion, yes, but also blessed with a sense of forging on despite any lingering doubts. It may not whip up the same emotional waves as their previous two outings, but Blindness helps cement the quintet's standing as one of Ireland’s great modern guitar bands.
