MORE ON ‘GOODBYE TO MISERY’ This was probably coming. The dam was surely always going to break. Had you listened to Ross Gordon speak over the past few years, read between the lines of his lyrics, or paid attention to the more seething moments of Cold Years’ 2020 acclaimed debut album Paradise, you could have predicted that something had to give. As the incendiary spirit of the band’s new album Goodbye To Misery attests, “something” might be an understatement. Everything has changed. This is the sound of the fight-or-flight kicking in, of deciding that enough is enough, and the trio — completed by guitarist Finlay Urquhart and bassist Louis Craighead — demanding better. Most importantly, it’s them doing something about it all. The time for pissing and moaning is done. As Gordon succinctly puts it, “I’m not self-destructive or miserable anymore.” Of the 12 new songs that make up the record, only three were written in Aberdeen as Gordon picked up and moved to Glasgow to escape the suffocating environment he’s called home for his entire life. The tracks came out in a flurry of big city inspiration while Gordon, like millions of others in the UK, found himself on furlough. Because yes, the shadow that looms large over this story is the same one that continues to colour almost every aspect of all our daily lives. Forced, by lockdown, to share ideas with Craighead and Urquhart over email instead of letting things percolate in pubs over pints like they used to, the songs on Goodbye To Misery naturally shaped up in brand new ways. Infused with new energy and new feelings, the band decided to explore those impulses, stepping out of their collective comfort zones in the process. As Gordon says, “it’s a fucking punk rock record,” with a freewheeling spirit and fearless attitude to boot. If you’ve ever wondered if there’s something better out there, suspected that this can’t be all that there is, or felt that you deserve more in life, Goodbye To Misery is a record that will resonate hard. You can stay where you are and grind yourself into despair, or you can go out and get what you deserve. Because the world owes you no favours. There aren’t going to be any saviours rising from these streets. Blazing with fury, regret, addiction and defiance, Cold Years pull on all these threads with aplomb. They cover relationships and societal issues. It gets deeply personal yet offers a universal call to arms. Among all this newfound optimism and positivity, there’s also more legitimate rage and rebellion than you’ll find on most modern punk records. Rest assured, Cold Years are still firmly kicking against the pricks. If anything, they sound even more riled than ever. Understandable, given the many reasons to be. “I couldn’t give a fuck what’s going to happen to me when I’m 65,” Gordon says. “You need to live life in the moment. You need to take chances. And that was something I was always scared to do. But I’m not scared anymore.” | 
