More Than Life - What’s Left Of Me

At a time when hardcore’s more introspective qualities have never been so far to the fore (the irony), it’s altogether too easy for listless wankers to seem part of something that they are not by clutching at their t-shirts while yelling into a microphone. And while it’s fair to say More Than Life have long had a bit of soul searching in them – hell, they’re named after a Morrissey lyric – there has always been an invention and dyed-in-the-wool fervour to their output which has set them apart from the legions of chancers.

It’s a trend that continues on ‘What’s Left Of Me’ a record which is, arguably, their most introverted and philosophical to date. The furious, ramshackle blast that permeated 2010’s ‘Love Let Me Go’ is superseded here by an altogether more open and atmospheric approach. Most pervasively the guitar tone is cleaner and the playing noticeably more lyrical and dexterous with a deft and stripped production job helping to refine the mood superbly. Vocalist James Matthews is on delightfully articulate form here too, rendering the first half of this album in particular with some neat melody lines that provide an additional, much welcome, string to the bands bow.

Naturally this is therapy couch stuff for the duration: broken promises, endless shame, wandering desire, regret, it’s all here in maudlin detail. Yet this feels like a step into maturity for MTL, by removing themselves at least one rung from their pedal-to-the-floor hardcore peers, they’ve managed to maintain their frantic honesty wholesale while expanding their sonic palette. You fancy that long time fans may feel that this doesn’t have the immediacy (or indeed the heaviness) of previous efforts but they would be overlooking the depth of what is on offer here. Live with ‘What’s Left Of Me’ for a decent period of time and it will inexorably drag you in and climb under your skin.

Above all, the young quintet should be applauded for taking an approach which, while perhaps not revolutionary, is certainly evolutionary. Embracing influences that extend beyond the usual blah blah blah of American Nightmare and old AFI they’ve produced a document which still feels unshakeable in both its conviction and integrity. Sure, there are swathes of this record which barely feel like the work of a ‘hardcore’ band at all but as Mozza would say, what difference does it make? This is a mighty fine album whatever way you wish to slice it.