Review Summary: Hellfire is the sunlight on a warm summer day
There are times when life definitely sucks. Now, life sucking can come in many different forms, and Conor Murphy is here to tell you about how life sometimes sucks for him. In fact he’s not even sure if he has an audience to tell this to. “The crowds do not applaud,” he sings with pain on “No One Likes You”, “‘cause no one likes you or the band you’re in at all.”
The picture of Hell that he paints might be something like this: sitting for eternity on a cracked lawn chair, fingers tightly gripping a lukewarm can of beer, and feeling utterly trapped in the confines of your own mind. But it’s fine, all this takes place in afternoon sunlight in a world where light and heat emanates from the sound waves of fuzzed-out guitar chords. So what if the forces of the universe are conspiring to separate you from your SO? Yeah, “nothing’ll ever keep us together”, but at least Conor’s made a bangin’ song (complete with saxophone and bittersweet acoustic guitar) out of this simple statement. To add insult to injury, even when you can be with your SO, it’s clear that “she deserves better” (Power Word Kill) and there’s no damn point to any of this at all. If you thought Conor couldn’t get any pithier, there’s “F*ck This”, which is probably the grooviest frustration song that you’ll ever hear. It seems that things just don’t get sadder than “listening to EDM and not picking up the phone”, and the screeching riffs in the refrain would like to happily agree. Meanwhile, “Pink Gallo”’s got these odd, twangy plucks and a sort of nervous energy that makes for one catchy track. In all likelihood it’s probably about something rather depressing, but I don’t want to have to feel bad about enjoying the aural product of someone’s suffering.
When “It Doesn’t Tear Me Up” rolls around, you can’t help but tear up a bit at this modest, yet quietly powerful affirmation of strength. To gentle acoustic strumming and hushed vocals, Conor reminds you of why he’s still keeping things going. “Milkshake” keeps up the theme but brings up his voice a notch, and now you’re probably wondering why the man thought he couldn’t get an audience because damn, that voice is absolutely lovely. It’s elastic, hiding none of the inner turmoil that comes out as a slight strategic waver. As for the closer of “Under the Table”, I’m not sure if Conor’s literally under a table with someone, but he sure makes it seem glorious and cathartic.
Smidley is a story for us all. It takes all of life’s monotony and hurt and condenses those things into this mid-tempo gem of an album. There’s no drowning in misery if you can evaporate it with the heat produced by the friction of guitar strums. So yeah, life sucks, but it also sounds oddly upbeat. Whether that’s a contradiction that you want to handle, well, it’s up to you to decide.
