MOURN - Self Worth Review
It is apt not only that their latest record is called Self-Worth but that it is also their best record to date.
A Halloween weekend release makes sense for MOURN’s fourth full length release, Self Worth. The Catalonian troupe have left the preconceptions about their youth, difficulties with record labels, and trick-or-treating behind. In turn they’ve amplified their voice to louder levels than usual to best deal with the real scary shit: anger, fear, patriarchy, inequality and adulthood. Spooky. MOURN have overcome a fair bit of difficulty to get where they are now, now stylised as a three piece since the departure of drummer Antonio Postius. Three acclaimed records, and a hall of experiences later, it is undeniably their own fire and self-belief (as well as a healthy slice of the talent pie) that’s brought them along so far. It is apt, then, not only that their latest record is called Self-Worth but that it is also their best record to date.
The musicality alone shows a fierce advancement in melody, still packing fireballs of energy but with a little more expertise and a fully-formed feel. The record is lyrically acute and vocally rich, with delicious guitar work and a wealth of ardour. There’s differing levels of post-punk to keep the record fresh, too. Take ‘Apathy,’ the only song at over four minutes: a three act drama which lyrically denounces the mansplainers, haters and the apathetic. It devotes its opening half to deep-dropped curling bass riffs, before entering a two part second act that hits us with a wall of noise fading into a breath of quiet before a closing act of exasperated yells of “What’s the next step” and distorted fury. The similar themes in single ‘Men’ are clear: a song frustrated with the band’s experience of being looked at, dealt with, and treated differently than men because of their non-manhood. Not in a sad way, though; this is an angry but expressionistic one, the band said in a statement, that shows “these lyrics come from a sincere and confident mindset where we want to establish our validity and identity and not let it be broken” and we can feel that. Musically, ‘Men’ takes a different approach to ‘Apathy’ with bouncier rhythms and poppier harmonies and a ready-for-singalong list of all the things that men are respected and treated differently about, “… their thoughts, their lust, their shame…”.
The first two singles released from the record open the album and again show different shades of punk. ‘This Feeling is Disgusting’ opens with the choral refrain of its title beside gentle chord strokes, acting as a moment of campfire blues before an “it sucks” drops us into scrappy guitar lines that tear through with a fuck it declaration. It encourages us to stress less about whether we can afford to do things, to worry less about the uncertainty of the world, because no matter the fear, anxiety, doubts, it’s nearly always worth doing the thing. Lead single ‘Call You Back’ follows this with infectious melodies, emotive riffs and delicate words, admitting the difficulty in reaching out to those we love due to the constant internal battles we might face, even when everything around looks beautiful and rosey.
As said, there’s plenty of differing influences to be heard throughout. The brilliant ‘I’m in Trouble’ stop-starts and scratches with all the power of old-school punk; ‘The Tree’ features prog-like riffs astride wonderfully simple explosions of sound, and the excellent ‘Gather, Really’ twangs with echoey strings and jumps in and out of jabbing bass and heavily crashing drum. The album’s closer ‘The Family’s Broke’ takes on gaslighters and the idea of the nuclear family, it sounds classically indie anthem — an emotive end to quite a strident journey. MOURN are at their best in fourth single ‘Stay There’, which features aggressive jumping bass, slides, screeches, and a quickening capering heartbeat to its drums. It hits us with scuzzy 90s intensity as bitterness and negativity pour out to our communal freedom. It’s personal and open, apt for the band saying the song is written about the end of an abusive relationship, serving to “tell them to stay there where they are and don’t come and bother us anymore”.
This album is a real embodiment of modern punk spirit, to open up with honest vulnerability while also screaming fuck it and fuck off; MOURN are the culmination of that. There’s something mighty in this band, an immense power to have overcome such professional adversity so young, and to have grown so much musically and lyrically in the space of six years, and outside of their first language! They have a bucketload of self-worth, a poise and a prowess to evocatively speak an awful lot of good mind, about just as much that really matters. And, what’s more, their music practically demands that you listen.