Like a charismatic preacher-man who’s just rolled into town, Cursed Murphy takes centre stage throughout his new studio album with the erratic frenzy of a sermon on busy street that twists with contorted word-play and a sound that mirrors the manic unrest of the songwriting.
The rabid beat and scratching sounds of ‘Burn Hibernia Burn’ kick off proceedings as the bristling energy of Cursed Murphy Verses The Resistance makes it presence felt. Through rattling rhythms, growled guitar parts and an unrelenting vocal the taut tension that runs right through the album is established. Resting underneath Cursed Murphy’s almost manical performance, this feeling of unease bustles underneath, never letting the atmosphere of the record fall to a comfortable rest.
Indeed, Cursed Murphy Versus The Resistance is an album that resides in restless fustration. “You wanna start, you don’t know where to start. Your blooded is curdled with the bitterness” snaps Murphy between the punctuacted fuzz of ‘Climb’ outlining the internal malaise of many. While lines like “Born to bite your knuckles, born to suck it up, born to swallow just dessert working for a jerk”, found in the slithering ‘This Cursed Earth’, convey the theme of endless cyclical social stagnation that also appear in the sociopolitical snarl of ‘The Poor Mouth’.
This wracked up tension works towards a finale of outward facing release and introspective aftermath shown in the mania of ‘The Resistance’ and isolated repose of ‘We Are Dead Stars’. As the two songs work in dynamic tandum to encapsulate the push and pull seen in the music, the words themselves and Cursed Murphy Verses The Resistance as a whole.
And so it goes, Cursed Murphy Versus The Resistance is not an album made to be ignored. And much like the aforementioned street preacher, it yells, it screams, it howls, to be heard. Except in this case there’s something worth paying attention to underneath it all as the album conveys many of the frustrations and loss felt by a génération perdue.