GIG REVIEW: The Murder Capital, Here at Outernet, London

Love reigns supreme in Tottenham Court Road

"You're an eejit if you didn't get here early," declares The Murder Capital front man James McGovern deep into the evening. "Because if you didn't get here early, you'd have missed Cusk and they're fucking awesome."

Two songs into opening band Cusk's set and the early promise teed up by their first track, unknowingly, has me wishing I was an eejit by McGovern's reckoning.

The drone-like guitar and slow, depressing soundscape does nothing to set the pulse racing. Happily, the second track is the anomaly and Cusk show much promise in their performance.

Consisting of five members - a drummer, bassist, lead guitarist, violinist/banjo player and front woman Esmé Creed-Miles - the London band meld elements of Marika Hackman, Porridge Radio and The Cranberries into their abrasive, absorbing songs.

Looking like the younger female equivalent of Robert Smith, Creed-Miles supplies pained, sometimes quivering vocals, to the grunge aesthetic.

Yet to release any music, they are a band to look out for, impressively ending with an epic tune peppered with the refrain of 'does it feel like love?'. Maybe not love, but this feels like the start of something exciting, for sure.

Then the main act. With three albums released and not a dud among them, The Murder Capital have an embarrassment of riches to call upon for their 90-minute set.

Emerging in the shadow of Fontaines D.C. and the Dublin boom spawned by Grian and co, it's always been a surprise how wide the gap in popularity between the two bands is with The Murder Capital boasting at least a comparable discography in the same time period.

Still, all the more to treasure the band in the company of those 'in the know' at one of London's newest venues. With brand new facilities and an impressive capacity for visual accompaniment, it looks the part but my first visit was an uncomfortable one with no room to move and obviously too many tickets sold. Happily, no such repeat for The Murder Capital despite the full feeling of the venue.

Sporting sunglasses and casual clothing, McGovern prowls the stage with menace, ever the showman able to rouse even the sleepiest of crowds.

'The Fall', 'More is Less' and 'Death of a Giant' get things off to an exciting frenetic start. 'The Stars Will Leave Their Stage' then calms things down with its epic poise coming so early in the set list demonstrating the arsenal of hits at the band's disposal.

Not always the most expansive of raconteurs, McGovern simply offers "now we're cooking" six songs in after the blistering 'Feeling Fades'.

This is followed by perhaps the poppiest song in The Murder Capital's discography in 'A Distant Life' offering the willing moshers and crowdsurfers a chance to dance instead.

The middle of the set is dominated by the one-two of 'Slow Dance I' and 'Slow Dance II' - an emotionally investing moment which teed up their shows in support of debut album, When I Have Fears. Usually broken up by 'Feeling Fades', 'Swallow' extends this sombre section of the set impressively. A chance for the band to centre themselves with the supporting cast playing sublimely all evening.

'A Thousand Lives' and 'Cant Pretend to Know' follow before the punk energy is brought back via 'Moonshot' and the always gut-punching 'Don't Cling to Life'.

Following this highlight, the gig is briefly stopped as the band check in on a crowd member in a bit of distress. All is quickly better and the crowd show their appreciation for the concern with applause.

McGovern then calls to "free Palestine" to a mostly positive and passionate response (a few boos in among the noise too). 'For Love of Country' follows with Irish visuals on the big screen.

After a short encore, McGovern regales the crowd about being in a cafe with his mum and other family members who remark on a man "trailing his wing". Intrigued by what he believes to be a beautiful turn of phrase, McGovern asks its meaning to be told it refers to a cheating man! And so precedes 'Trailing a Wing' reclaiming the phrase as the title of a love song. A beautiful quiet moment befitting of the desired positive meaning McGovern interprets on hearing it.

A typically rousing rendition of 'Ethel' feels like that will be it, but with Blindness the fulcrum of this tour, last up is 'Words Lost Meaning' which somehow doesn't feel redundant after the power of 'Ethel', buoyed by its own chant-style chorus.

All killer no filler across the 21 tracks on the set list with notable omissions such as 'Love, Love, Love', 'Green and Blue' (to one persistent fan's disappointment!), 'Crying' and 'Born into the Fight' showing what a colossal library of songs the band has created thus far.

Sated, McGovern leaves shouting "we fucking love ya". The sentiment is reciprocated.