The Murder Capital return to Glasgow’s St Luke’s with electrifying intensity, debuting material from Blindness in a set that’s both ferocious and emotionally unrelenting.
St Luke’s is packed wall to wall before the first note rings out—no surprise given The Murder Capital’s cult-like following and the growing anticipation around their new album Blindness. Tonight feels significant. A band entering their next phase, with a crowd ready to follow them into whatever shadows or revelations come next.
When the Dublin five-piece stride onstage, there’s no preamble. They launch straight into “The Fall”—the first track released from the new record—and immediately the place is alight. Guitars slice through the room with searing precision, James McGovern’s voice soaked in grit and control, pulling the audience into something visceral and magnetic.
What follows is a set that feels both expansive and intimate, touching every era of the band’s discography while somehow feeling like one cohesive, fevered narrative. “More Is Less” snarls just as hard as it did on When I Have Fears, while “Death of a Giant”—another from Blindness—rumbles with the weight of everything the band has carried to get here.
Mid-set, we’re taken through the emotional core of the evening. “Slowdance |” and “Slowdance ||” unfold like a fever dream: minimalist beginnings, swirling guitar bends that stretch time, and finally, a soaring violin that cuts straight through. “Swallow” follows, and it’s devastating—unfiltered, unguarded, and quietly breathtaking.
McGovern commands the stage like a man completely tethered to the moment. Before the encore, he pauses to tell the story behind “Trailing a Wing”—a song born from a real-life affair whispered to him by his aunt. It’s a perfect example of what The Murder Capital do best: unearthing the messy, mundane dramas of life and alchemising them into something sublime.
Throughout the night, the gratitude flows freely. Between songs, the band thank their fans and take a moment to show solidarity with the Palestinian people. The crowd erupts into chants of “Free, Free Palestine,” and McGovern doesn’t miss a beat: “That’s it Glasgow, you’re always on the right side of history. We love you. It’s been a long affair we’ve had together—we’ve been here many times and we’re never going to stop coming back.”
The set closes on “Love of Country,” the surprise 7” release that’s not only a bold musical statement but a gesture of solidarity—every penny from the track donated to Medical Aid for Palestinians. It’s a poignant, powerful closer that cements the night as one of political intent and emotional heft.
Blindness may have been written across continents and recorded in a whirlwind three weeks in LA, but here in the echoing walls of St Luke’s, it finds its home—in sweat, in sound, and in the shared breath of a sold-out crowd that knows this band is something truly special.
Words and pictures: Rose McEnroe
@rosemcenroephoto