It has taken quite some time but, at last, Donaghadee crowd-scene Morph have managed to clear a little space for themselves in the pop hinterland.

Eight years after forming, the seven piece are about to cut the red ribbon and start ushering all-comers through the roadways and back alleys of their debut album Morphsville: an enclosed spot, ideal for some small town dreaming, but overshadowed by the biggest building in town – the last chance saloon. Because, according to lead singer Colin Stewart, it’s a record that came perilously close to never being made.
“We had a bit of a career break and I told the rest of them that I was fucking off to Brighton. I couldn’t really see the point anymore in staying,” he says. “I think that kinda spurred some of them on and, just around that time, we got the chance to go into Frankie Einstein’s studio for a week. So, we’d nothing to lose really. We just went in, played a lot of new songs, and recorded it ourselves. When we listened back to it, I think we were all a wee bit shocked at how coherent and good it was, and then Native Records told us that they’d love to put it out. It’s definitely given us some extra legs. We’re going to push it 100% and if nothing comes of it, then we’ll probably go our separate ways.”
No pressure there then. It must be said, though, that ‘Morphsville’ doesn’t sound as if it was put together by a bunch of musicians in the throes of a break-up. If anything, it carries itself with all the accomplishment and self-confidence you would come to expect from a band who have been playing together for the best part of a decade. At its best, on songs like ‘Motion’, ‘Streetlife’ and ‘Lazy’, it manages to mix mega power rock flourishes with a sad, melancholic, sensibility. Colin playing little boy lost while the rest of the band spin shapes from such diverse sources as old doo-wop and prime American big chord grunge.
“A lot of the lyrics came out of me being stuck in a small-town, totally depressed out of my head, and dreaming of ways to get out of it. But by and large I think we’re all pretty light-hearted kinda guys, and I hope that joyfulness comes out. We’ve always had that balance. It can be difficult with so many people. Especially when you look at our band and see that we all like really different stuff. At some point I will go off and write my own songs, but there’s benefits as well in having other people to knock ideas around with. This record could only sound the way it does because of the amount of people involved in writing it. Like, you’ve torch songs there, indie stompers, country kind of tunes. That’s because you’ve guys who love Pearl Jam, playing with guys who love Otis Redding, others into Portishead. You can tell that when you hear it.”
The sounds coming from the Morph camp would suggest that gravity is pulling the band in perilous directions. However, while it would be an undoubted shame if ‘Morsphville’ proved the group’s last word, at least they have left us with a fine (and impressively representative) parting shot.
Colin: “I’ve been in this band for eight years and I’d say that if you played me this record back when I first joined, the only thing that would shock me by it is how little handclapping there is in it because I used to be a wild Prince fan. I think it’s a pretty good overview of what Morph have been about. I’m proud of it. We wanted it to be our epitaph. If we never do another thing, then at least we’ll be able to look back on it and see that something concrete and good came out of the whole experience.”
Good luck fellas.