The Debrief: The Murder Capital
As our Features Editor Jude eloquently wrote in yesterday’s review of ‘Gigi's Recovery’, the second album from The Murder Capital… “something's happening in Ireland.”
In the case of The Murder Capital, you can add England and France to that list, owed in part to the nomadic nature of the band’s frontman James McGovern, who now spends most of his time between Paris and London. Joining the effortlessly cool vocalist, who quickly sparks a cigarette as we begin the interview, are drummer, Diarmuid Brennan, and bassist, Gabriel Paschal Blake.
Making up three-fifths of the band, you’d be safe to assume the trio were childhood friends; the obvious tight-knit nature of their collective relationship is evident as we launch into several questions regarding their new studio full-length and the themes that lyrically bind it. However, it was only nine months before the release of their debut album ‘When I Have Fears’ in 2019 that the band members even met one another; their subsequent journey into the upper echelons of the UK music scene has bound them together eternally.
For better, or worse though? “There’s some stuff that people love about being in the band that other people hate,” frontman James McGovern jokingly admitted to a chorus of laughter during our nearly hour-long conversation over Zoom… which we began in earnest.
When you started the band, there were only nine months between you meeting one another and the album being fully recorded. What was that process like, and have you managed to have time to rest in-between releases?
Gabriel: It was pretty fucking chaotic because so much stuff was happening, and the trajectory felt very steep. I mean, it took us two years to write this next record. And we were saying this a few days ago, one of the things James’ father said to us in the process of writing the second record was “sometimes the best work that you get done is when you step away from it.” Go for a walk on the beach, or go swimming; when you’ve done a certain amount of work, and you might have exhausted your brain working in that way or in that environment, you need to take a step away.
Diarmuid: I’d say during the first album we weren’t taking a step back and saying “what's the best way of going about this?” It was kind of thinking “let’s just do a tour, let’s start recording an album now, let’s start writing it,” then straight after that we had a summer full of festivals. The album was out by the end of summer, then we toured again. So yeah, it was kind of one thing after the other. Quite full-on.
““I think that’s how you can get the closest authenticity. Just by remaining curious and open””
Moving on to ‘Gigi’s Recovery’….You’ve said to make a record that sounded anything like the first one would have been “wild” — could you expand on that and how do you feel about ‘When I Have Fears’ when you reflect on it?
Gabriel: The first record ended up being quite visceral, pretty dark, and quite clearly about grief. It was that record because of those elements. We’re never going to try to replicate that sound in that way. I think we pretty much had like a similar approach, and that what we were making was reflections of how we were, or what we were like, hoping what the future would be like… and what you can do right now to affect your future. Whereas the last record was looking back so much; our mission statement isn’t to make music that sounds like the first record.
You’ve spoken about having a slightly tongue-in-cheek mantra at the near beginning of writing this record, it was, “The evolution will not be compromised. This kept us on a course, even when we didn’t know where we were going.” Are those feelings still relevant or do you feel like you’re confident with your sonic direction?
James: If anyone tells you they know where they’re going... it's bullshit. We don’t claim to know where we’re going next and we didn’t know where we were gonna go when we started writing this record, we just knew that we wanted to change. The thread that we’re trying to keep through the cloth of the band is curiosity, and I think that’s our job, to remain curious and remain open to being playful and having a bit of fun with it. Do you know what I mean? Because I think that’s how you can get the closest authenticity. Just by remaining curious and open.
Diarmuid: I think sonically, we’ve gotten there with those particular songs. In my mind, it’s all about how we achieve that sound. I don’t think that’s a really hard thing to do internally. I think that comes from somebody listening from the outside observing... I guess we’re always just trying to make the ideas work; whatever path that takes us down, that’s more of the thing that we’re hunting for.
There have been a few years between your releases, owed in part to the pandemic. How did you all navigate that time as a band, and do you feel it gave you more time to be creative?
James: As everything was slowly stripped away, it robbed us all of our space for creativity, the inputs of everyday life that we didn’t realise were so impactful on our expression. I think it was an uphill battle, I think that was the kind of cold irony of the free time that the pandemic gave us. In the beginning, everyone was sort of jubilant to be having all this time and space to create things, whereas, only a very certain style of mind will be able to do that in those circumstances. There were also a lot of things for us to confront as a band, and as individuals; I think what we are now so grateful for, is to have had that time to iron out the creases on what was already a gorgeous shirt.
You’ve talked about pushing against each other’s instincts and how you fought over ideas; it seems like you’re challenging one another in a creative sense. Would you agree with that? If so, is that something that’s developed as your relationships grow stronger?
Diarmuid: Absolutely, just going off what James said, there was that fear kind of last year... during the lockdown, there was a lot of creative diarrhoea going around, to be honest. I found that difficult personally; you’re just kind of sitting trying to write ideas and thinking “does any of this work?” I think our getting back in a room together really was the space for us to try and challenge those things.
““The difference between ‘Gigi’s Recovery’ and whatever comes next is that it’s probably not such a massive necessity to search for a new atmosphere; there was a huge amount of time spent on searching for new tones and textures””
In terms of your usual creative process, how does that go? Is it a cohesive writing and recording approach or is it a case of separate elements all coming together?
Diarmuid: Yeah, it’s cohesive. I just need to pull up my socks for the next one; that’s what it feels like. We went down some rabbit holes that were worth going down on this album. Now we know we can get great results out of that. That’s how I feel anyway...what’s the harm in pushing on, right?
James: The difference between ‘Gigi's Recovery’ and whatever comes next is that it’s probably not such a massive necessity to search for a new atmosphere; there was a huge amount of time spent on searching for new tones and textures, and world-building. I think that there’s a lot more to be built on top of what’s already there. Obviously, ‘When I Have Fears’ is in some way connected and informed the directions that we decided to take on this record. I think we can only see that with hindsight now. So the only difference will be that I think we should be able to get started into the physicality of the songwriting process a lot quicker next time.
There are a few themes that seem to crop up throughout the twelve tracks, heartbreak being a common reoccurrence that I noticed. Whether it be the line “I will I’ll wade I’m wading for you / I will I’ll wait I’m waiting for you” on ‘Crying’ or “A thousand lives with you and I won’t be enough” on ‘A Thousand Lives’. Is your lyrical content inspired by your own experiences, and if so, is there anything you’d consider to be off-limits?
James: I don’t think anything’s off-limits, unfortunately. I mean, like that line at the end of ‘Crying’ moves through the words “wait” and “wade” as well. I don’t know if I need to necessarily spell out what that’s about right now. Then, the “a thousand lives with you won’t be enough” line... I was laughing with Gabe walking up the street the other day and I was like “fuck, it's strange being in love you know?” because it’s heartbreaking, in the sense that like, “this is it, you’re here now.” I think when you’re truly in love all you can see is this sort of infinite future with the other person, which informed the lyrics to that track.
Correct me if I’m wrong… but the new record does seem like you’ve undergone a slight sonic change, it feels as though you’ve refined your sound, taking the best bits from the first album, whilst introducing a whole new side. What has influenced you guys in the creation of ‘Gigi’s Recovery’?
James: I feel like we all listen to everything and watch everything... I’m not saying literally, but there are common themes that will run through each individual’s listening and consuming patterns. I suppose when it comes to film, TV and music, it’s very sporadic and very unpredictable. So, for me anyway, I couldn’t pull back and tell you “this fucking film I watched or this album I was listening to affected it,” because some of it just doesn’t at all correlate to what was going on. I know I was reading a lot of Paul Eluard love poems for a long time in Wexford; that’s probably something that comes to mind.
Gabriel: When it comes to the tunes you’re listening to, or the books you’re reading, or the films you’re watching... it’s to stimulate and evoke some sort of emotion inside of you, and then you can bring it into the room. I think when you bring it down to bare emotion, a lot of the time whatever that emotion is, regardless of what music got you there, that’s what inspires the art.
““I think I’d have loved to not be so much in my own head... and just be more open about things. Just trust your gut, always trust your gut””
So you are originally from Ireland, and you’ve said you very much still consider yourselves an Irish act, even though some of you are based in London and further afield. I’ve spoken to a few bands lately that have consciously decided to move to be closer to music circles, was this the case for some of you?
James: I was just thinking about this on the way home. I was thinking about home as a concept, you know what I mean? I’ve always been on the move my whole life. My parents divorced when I was two. So life was split between Dublin and Cork for me, and as I’ve moved into my 20s, I’ve just always been on the move in some way, shape or form. Now, with the band, we’re sort of permanently on the move and there’s no reliability over where we’re going to be in the next few months; leaving Ireland gives me a deeper connection to it. I spend my time between Paris, London and sometimes Dublin, so I’ve become capable of getting a feeling of home wherever I am. It’s a skill that I’m very focused on building so that I don’t get the cruel, acute attachments that you can get when you are so on the move. If life’s getting me down or whatever, I’ll look at one of the lads, or look at my girlfriend or I’ll even look at the fucking shoes on my feet, and you know, I’m home. It’s all good.
Diarmuid: I guess what James is saying, is accepting that sometimes you’ve got to find your home in different ways, even if it’s just living with yourself. I went to visit some friends last week in Berlin, I spent a week there; it was the first time that I had this feeling of “oh, this is what Dublin used to feel like.” It was only because all my friends were there, you know, friends from school, friends from college friends from other walks of life and music, we were all there together and it was very accessible. I suppose you just gravitate towards things and places that are familiar? That’s my idea of where home could be.
Lastly, I’d like to end this on a contemplative note… if you had any advice for your younger selves when looking back on how far you’ve come in four years or so, what would you say?
James: Four years have gone by fucking fast. I’d probably say retreat a little more into myself. I think like, just retreat to the writing room, retreat into the inner space more often, you know what I mean? I think that’s probably what I was missing, at certain points over the last four years was just the ability to retreat in a way that would compound the hunger that was there to create.
Diarmuid: I’d say the opposite. Well, for me anyway. I think I’d have loved to not be so much in my own head... and just be more open about things. Just trust your gut, always trust your gut. That’s really where you should go creatively instead of second guessing yourself.
