More and more often, it seems that the albums dominating critical music discourse come from further and further afield: there really is no telling when the next masterpiece will sneak up on you. English four-piece Maruja take the vibrant energy and out-and-out aggression of punk, yet see fit to throw an alto saxophone into the mix— this combination, as you might expect, is as audacious as it is intriguing. It’s also a mix that makes the group’s debut album ‘Pain to Power’ one of the most consistently thrilling releases of the year.

It doesn’t take a licensed psychologist to tell that Maruja are demonstrating an unrestrained fury on their debut record— the group look at the numerous injustices in the world around them, channelling their frustrations into one of the most explosive and barbaric listens you could hope to discover. Harry Wilkinson makes no attempts to disguise the bitterness in his voice, howling like a banshee as he chants the titles of ‘Look Down On Us’ and ‘Trenches’— though he may profess that “love is my god,” the vocalist nonetheless sounds like an enraged preacher, struggling to make his voice heard over the absolute musical insanity letting loose around him. In many of its most memorable passages, ‘Pain to Power’ turns that anger into pure jazz-rock chaos: the sheer aggression that rhythm section Buonaccorsi and Hayes bring to a cut like ‘Bloodsport’ is positively venomous, aided tremendously by a soundscape that captures them in their absolute element. The saxophone accompaniments of Carroll, meanwhile, are that something extra that’ll truly make Maruja stick in your mind.

The songs on ‘Pain to Power’ wear that rage like a cloak, morphing it into something crafted, something dissectible. Ten-minute epic ‘Look Down On Us’ is a winding journey that slowly sees its instrumental savagery burning away, melting into quiet sorrow with just a hint of cautious optimism at the fringes— the saxophone leads across the cut, both when Carroll is playing his heart out and when he’s softly underscoring things, are absolutely striking, doing as much storytelling as Wilkinson’s lyrics.

“They take the food out our hands: how much more until we starve?

Depleted our community, the truth is always hard

Swallow pills, knock them back to manage our emotions

Corporations profit hard, then cackle like some vultures”

A lot’s been said about Maruja’s lyrics, which aren’t exactly the most subtle or multi-faceted in the world: aside from some choice exceptions though, we'd struggle to criticise most of the record’s material. ‘Pain to Power’ is a rallying cry for a suffering world, featuring choruses and spoken word passages that aim to cut right to the heart of sweeping societal issues— simply put, the use of more flowery language would undercut the passion, the utter desperation that flows through Maruja’s every movement.

Opener ‘Bloodsport’ captures the album’s sheer ruthlessness to a tee, sending frantic drum work and gnarly bass licks ricocheting around the sound stage— the cries of “I’m an addict, addicted to my bad habits” and “complicit, crossfire, no vision, live wire” fit well against the first (of many) saxophone swells, kicking the record off without warning. ‘Trenches’ is similarly dastardly, building from an infectious bass groove (complete with a scraping guitar sound that’s hideous in only the best of ways) into an out-and-out wall of sound. It’s fitting that the song dealing with themes of revolution and reinvention feels so bold and brutal— ‘Pain to Power’ is heavy, in a way that even many metal albums struggle to emulate.

“No revolution if you don’t think you’re a revolutionary

The minute that we trust ourselves, becoming visionaries

When man just didn’t care, the gods up and left

And threw us into chaos, never mind who has bled”

If there is a complaint to be levied against Maruja’s debut, it’s that the album only has so many tricks up its sleeve— as we pull into the record’s final leg, proceedings begin to unravel just a hair. By any other standard, the likes of ‘Break the Tension’ and ‘Reconcile’ would be ridiculously strong: on ‘Pain to Power,’ the songs are certainly admirable, but do feel somewhat like they’re recycling the odd idea from another track. You can only hear those saxophone trills so many times before they lose their lustre, and though Maruja don’t quite reach that stage here, they certainly put a toe on the line. It’s a thought that carries even more weight in the context of the group’s discography, where these concepts have been explored already on previous EPs and singles— ‘Pain to Power’ simply pushes those ideas further than any release before it.

Even that small note of criticism rings hollow, though, when considering how effectively the group change up their sound moment to moment: when Maruja’s anger finally subsides, the gorgeous underbelly of the album comes through. Single ‘Saoirse’ rings of warmth and invitation, playing around with some simple yet comforting interplay between the guitars and saxophones— Wilkinson’s constant refrains of “it’s our differences that make us beautiful” provide an effective anchor, around which the instrumental revolves. ‘Zaytoun’ is even more free-flowing, acting as a welcome breathing point towards the end of the record: though the song isn’t the most distinctive on its own merits, the record benefits greatly from its inclusion. Much the same could be said for the lengthier tracks Maruja have presented us with here— ‘Pain to Power’ isn’t so thrilling for its intensity alone, but for how completely the album captures a looming sense of dread and agony.

In a world that frequently seems so cold and apathetic, Maruja’s gut-wrenching cries come crashing through: you simply cannot doubt the authenticity of the band’s performances or messages, delivered with so much heart and passion as they are. The four-piece’s debut record balances inspiration and despair, even as it balances the sounds and writing devices of its various influences— ‘Pain to Power’ earns its name when it simultaneously acknowledges and dispels the anxiety of the modern age, and brings a tear to your eye doing so.