Wunderhorse
Collins Barracks, Dublin
★★★★☆
Wunderhorse arrive onstage at Collins Barracks to a barrage of plastic cup missiles hurled high into the air or pinged laterally at specific targets.
Whether or not you like being soaked in lager, it is a roaring sign of approval from tonight’s young crowd. They chant the opening riff to Midas like a football song, punching the air and digging claws into nearby shoulders. The guitar line is a microcosm for much of what is to come: simple, but snarling and effective.
The project revolves around frontman Jacob Slater, who penned Wunderhorse’s debut album alone in 2022 before inviting the band in for its sequel. While the first record was hailed for its gritty and introspective power rock, the second LP is stronger and more expansive. Slater once said the intent was to sound like the listener has their face pressed up against an amp.
Therein lies the juxtaposition of the set. Older songs like Purple, Leader of the Pack and Girl Behind the Glass generate more emotion. The lyrics are riddled with youthful angst and supplemented by thrashing, four-chord chugs. Slater’s right arm swings like a forceful handshake in single strums; attendees seem to know every word he has ever written.
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Musically, the newer songs are more interesting. Their frenzy is punctured by uncluttered spotlights on Slater’s vocal. This is most effective on one of the night’s closers, Superman, which echoes sweetly around the barracks before the clutter is welcomed back in for a ceremonial, melancholic swell.
In some respects, Wunderhorse’s range should come as no surprise. Over the last few years, the group has been senselessly likened to a range of their contemporaries, partly owed to formative touring slots alongside Fontaines DC and Sam Fender. Those two acts could not be equated, but both seem to crop up as recommended reading for Wunderhorse’s sound.
Slater himself has not been shy about listing major influences. Elliott Smith, Joni Mitchell and Neil Young are all cited, linked by lyrical fluency and a tight, intuitive grasp of authentic melody. The energy is what he brings, connecting the dots to end up with a rock band that is as heavy as it is sentimental.
You would wonder then, what he makes of the flying pints. Though the Wunderhorse merch is a highly popular uniform, a not insignificant number of fans in the audience are wearing Oasis T-shirts. Maybe Slater feels happy and at home in terrace culture, but it doesn’t seem a totally natural fit.
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Oasis certainly never wrote a song like Teal, which arrives during the encore to satisfied delirium. It bears the story of a teenage relationship, addiction and the vicissitudes of young life, ultimately concluding in a realisation of life’s beauty and the possibility of recovery.
This is Wunderhorse’s home – unflinchingly earnest guitar music, made truly evocative by clever melodies. It is not without reason that they are one of the buzziest live acts around, and that reputation is cemented in Dublin.
