And your ears shall hear…

In the heart of Dublin’s vibrant music scene, amidst the echoes of history and the pulse of rebellion, emerges a band that embodies the raw energy and unapologetic spirit of punk rock. Sprints, an Irish punk sensation, has been making waves with their electrifying sound and fearless attitude. The four fiercely talented musicians, Karla Chubb (vocals/guitar), Colm O’Reilly (guitar), Sam McCann (bass), and Jack Callan (drums), formed in 2019. With influences ranging from punk and grunge to alternative rock, the band crafts a sonic landscape that is both aggressive and captivating. Their music is a call to arms against the status quo, delivered with unbridled intensity and conviction.

At the core of Sprints’ appeal lies their distinctive sound, characterized by punchy guitar riffs, thunderous basslines, and Chubb’s commanding vocals. Their songs are anthems of defiance, tackling themes of societal disillusionment, personal struggle, and the quest for liberation. With lyrics that cut deep and melodies that linger long after the music fades, Sprints leaves an indelible mark on listeners’ hearts and minds.

On the title track, “Letter To Self,” lead singer and guitarist Karla Chubb sings about happiness and the personal meaning it holds for each individual. She has seemingly spent all of her time trying to make her partner happy, while she’s left empty and suicidal. “I gave it all, but you were never happy/Gave you my life, but you were never happy/I cried and cried, but you were never happy/If I took my life, Would you be happy? By the end of the song, Chubb has had enough, screaming, “Maybe my body don’t look like yours/Maybe my happy don’t look like yours.” This was the pivotal moment for me. Hearing the anguish of a young woman trying to free herself from the chains of abuse, I was pulled headfirst into Sprints’ debut.

The concept of happiness is an overriding theme in each one of our lives and it plays out again and again on Letter To Self. How can we make other people happy when we can’t make ourselves happy? As human beings we can only take so much abuse and criticism before realizing our own happiness has to come from within, and we are incapable of making other people happy. We see this theme again on “Cathedral,” where Chub finds herself praying to anyone that can help find the joy that’s eluding her. “Mother, Father, Holy Spirit and ghost I pray/When I’m gonna be happy?/Is anybody happy?/Can anybody be happy?”

Can anybody be happy? It’s a relative desire, and a question we all ponder. Letter To Self plays front to back like a fistfight of emotions with the listener caught in between. Produced by Daniel Fox, the bass player from Gilla Band, this is a grungy rock record in which the songs sound confrontational, much like the Gilla band itself.

There are happier moments sprinkled throughout, like “Shaking Their Hands” which is reminiscent of Hole’s “Violet.” In a PASTE interview with Clare Martin, Chubb describes the song as “our little Radiohead moment—early Radiohead.” The song is about the joy in meeting fans and, as you guessed, shaking their hands. It’s a brave statement, like and ode, or a thank you to their fans. Something I can’t quite see Billy Corgan conjuring.

“Literary Mind” is another cheery track I have come to love, where Chubb describes a partner as a “killer and a thriller.” “She’s got a literary mind and a literary look/She’s got a literary hand and it’s literally shook.” It’s got a hook that you can’t stop singing and it feels like early Breeders, or Elastica, with the growl of PJ Harvey.

I hate using the Hole reference again for the rowdy “Adore, Adore, Adore,” but it’s a striking similar single and eerily reminiscent example of Courtney Love’s early days where she actually fucking rocked for a living, instead of spewing bullshit. “They never call me B-B-Beautiful”/But do you adore me?” This is about a woman wanting a specific type of adoration, and not getting it. This type of adoration leads us back to Chubb’s happiness and her quest to fill the void.

With their electrifying live performances and uncompromising ethos, Sprints has quickly established themselves as a force to be reckoned with in the Irish music scene and beyond. Way beyond, actually, and into the dimly lit depths of Schuba’s backroom here in Chicago, where they blew the doors off the small venue (I will be writing about that soon, stay tuned). Their refusal to conform to conventions and willingness to push boundaries set them apart as true innovators in a genre often characterized by rebellion and nonconformity. Their earlier series of singles and EPs recorded between 2019 and 2022 for Nice Swan were good, but nothing like the untamed spirits they have released for City Slang on Letter To Self. As you dive into the world of Sprints, exploring their music, ethos, and the fiery passion that fuels their rise to prominence, remember, “Any habit can be broken/Any night can become day.”