Bitch Falcon: Staring at Clocks review – Big, ballsy rock record

They once said that their mission statement was to write heavy songs that you could sing along to. Bitch Falcon’s debut album ticks both of those boxes, even if frontwoman Lizzie Fitzpatrick’s vocals are occasionally overwhelmed by the agitation and spirited ebullience of the soundtrack.

Make no bones about it: this is a big, ballsy rock record of the kind that you don’t hear very often anymore – at least one threatening the mainstream. The Dublin trio’s 1990s grunge influences are palpable, as are echoes of Therapy?’s early material (not least because of Nigel Kenny’s impressively decisive drumming) and even hints of Sleater-Kinney on Test Trip. I’m Ready Now opens with squally guitars that sound like the gates of hell being prised apart; Sold Youth pitches Fitzpatrick’s dreamy vocals over a rumbling bassline and is a song begging to be heard loud and live in a sweaty venue.

It is Bitch Falcon’s dedication to creating atmosphere that really sets this album apart, though. Turned to Gold burbles with a sense of menace and dread that suits both the frenetic pace and the stealthy stalk heard on the likes of Harvester, while the shifting rhythms of Martyr offers a necessary breather amidst the unyielding force of the tracklist.

There may be no big surprises on this album, but there’s a comfort in knowing that you’re getting exactly what you’ve signed up for, too.