A grungy, crunchy existential masterpiece: Gurriers’ off-the-rails debut ‘Come And See’
The band share their debut album.
Photo: Joshua Mulholland
“A noisy, guitar-driven odyssey of our disillusionment with the modern world.”
That’s how Irish quintet, Gurriers, describe their debut album, Come And See. And they’re spot on. Come And See is a face-beating collection of heavy, sludgy fuzz-punk tracks, every painfully resonant lyric hammered home by Dan Hoff’s unapologetically Irish vocals.
The record opens with the aptly titled Nausea, a brain-hammering battery of the senses, with distorted guitar, air raid sirens and sickening flows. It’s unashamedly in your face; a tracheotomy without anaesthetic, and all the better for it. Des Goblin, meanwhile, one of the leading singles from Come And See, leans into the groovier side of punk-rock – Fontaines D.C. on the dancefloor – and remains a standout on the album.
There’s a thread of despair which runs throughout the record; whether it’s the washed-up, hollow promises of Prayers, schizophrenic violence of Close Call or collective malaise of British youth in Sign of the Times. Poignant words of wisdom – reflections on social anxiety, friends gone astray and the remorseless turning of the capitalist machine – make up the bulk of the song-writing on Come And See, but at no point does it feel ham-fisted.
Instead, Gurriers are just another group of young lads fed up with the world as it festers today. Instead of poems or protests, it’s unbridled, post-punk rage – and it works. Across ten tracks (eleven, if you include the one-minute Interlude midway through), Gurriers show an understanding of both grunge and garage, culminating in one of the most consistent (and angriest) albums of 2024.
Come And See is out now via No Filter.