REVIEW: The Murder Capital, Vicar Street

The Cork-led band played a superb gig in Dublin, writes Ed Power.

[rating]5[/rating]

There was a moment during the Murder Capital’s sell-out Vicar Street show when you felt the ground fall away and the sky tumble in. It came towards the end of On Twisted Ground, a song about the death of a friend that parlayed the personal into the universal.

“You could have watched it all,” boomed James McGovern, his Cork accent seeping into his singing voice. Goosebumps rippled around the room.

Angst and showmanship made for a combustible blend throughout a set that felt at times like an especially cathartic victory lap. Eighteen months ago the Murder Capital played bottom of the bill to Fontaines DC and Shame around the corner at the (since demolished) Tivoli. Now they are arguably as big as either. They returned to Ireland on the back of a sell-out UK tour and giddy write-ups in what remains of the British music press.

The Murder Capital, to their credit, do not hide their influences. Joy Division – or at least side two of Unknown Pleasures – is an obvious touchstone. And McGovern isn’t coy about drawing on Nick Cave’s peacocking ennui. They have a singular look to boot, with trousers hitched slightly too high and shirts tucked neatly in.

With a singer from Sunday’s Well and a lead guitarist from Rosscarbery, the Murder Capital are also in the tradition of mould-breaking alternative rock from Cork. As with the Sultans of Ping, the band weren’t afraid to wax pretentious or plunge into the crowd (as McGovern did just two tracks in). And the frontman’s rich, anxious voice harked back to Cathal Coughlan in his Fatima Mansions period, and his ability to pivot from a croon to a snarl.

But these were mere reference points. The Murder Capital use howling alt.pop to grapple with life as it is lived today, so that anyone tempted to write them off as D’owtcha Boy Division will have had to reconsider. Time and time again they set Vicar Street alight.