Album Review: Gurriers - 'Nobody's Coming To Save You'
The only thing difficult about the second album from Dublin band Gurriers is the subject matter; the quintet have never shied away from thorny topics, and recognise that music and art are political, no matter who may say otherwise. Formed mid-pandemic, the band’s jagged noise rock template has been refined over the years, with debut album Come and See presenting a band who had essentially figured themselves out but still had room to grow, in terms of both their audience and sound. Along with stopgap single ‘Erased’, it made enough of an impact for them to be brought in to open for Turnstile in Dublin last November, a band with whom they share some strands of musical DNA and are on the level when it comes to sociopolitical values.
There’s no way around it: Nobody’s Coming to Save You eats its predecessor’s lunch. It contains plenty of growth while also doubling down on the intensity with which the band initially made waves. Some bands struggle to capture their live sound on record, but Gurriers are able to bring it into the studio with an ease that suggests veteran status, not a band who released their debut single a mere five years ago. Pair that with production from Mark Bowen of contemporaries IDLES & Loren Humphrey, behind the boards for Geese’s Getting Killed? It’s a match made in heaven; for this reason, the likes of ‘Nothing Happens Twice’ and ‘Party Lines’ kick like a mule.
The album’s title and its namesake opener speak to the power of individual action rather than powerlessness: “Hope ain’t a whisper / It’s an axe you break down doors with.” The central message of hope anchored to these 10 powerful songs also puts the music world on notice that art and politics are inseparable, as ‘Shades’ takes aim at the artists who remain silent, ‘shy, nepotistic and free’, Dan Hoff’s vocals shifting effortlessly from a whisper to a scream as the song scales up both the band’s knack for a speaker-rattling hook and their trademark full-on approach. If the record tips into overwhelming territory at times, that’s the point; on a macro scale, life itself feels like too much, expressed simply on the tattered yet tender ‘Today’s Not Enough’: “I can’t foresee my future and I miss my past.” It’s a love song at its core, yet it’s swept along by nervous energy, milliseconds from flying off the handle.
Across the record, anxiety is a constant hum, background radiation that bleeds into the self-laceration of ‘Drones’: “Can’t even hold a job down without tears on my pillow / Cursed with a permanent frown, everyone thinks I’m an arsehole.” It’s a song for anyone feeling ground down by daily life, crushed by the relentless march of capitalism, directly in the crosshairs on ‘Waiting For Fisher’, with its talk of burnout and ‘coffin-shaped booths’ as the song builds to its peak before collapsing amidst frantic yells, plunging the listener into the dissociative numbness of penultimate track ‘I Wish I Was’, as all that nervous energy fizzles out and the narrative completely crashes, the band finally slowing things down as the album reaches its denouement, with ‘Crybaby’ bringing it home with aplomb, one last achingly personal reflection.
Scathing both in musical approach and lyrical outlook, Nobody’s Coming to Save You isn’t for the faint of heart, but Gurriers know that being artists who can locate their spine speaks volumes. They may just be the hungriest band the burgeoning Irish scene has to offer, with the confidence, clarity of vision and—most crucially of all—songs that hit like sledgehammers. Compromise won’t save us; we need more music as unflinching as this. Artists have voices beyond being vehicles of entertainment, and Gurriers are prepared to go hoarse in the pursuit of solidarity and hope, because it’s all worth saving.
Words by Gareth O’Malley
