With the release of their debut album, ‘We Could Be Brave’, the key word that personifies Michael Cera Palin is that last one. Having formed over a decade ago, taking a hiatus and reforming early 2020 (uh oh) and subsequently reemerging in 2022, “brave” really does sum them up. Many bands would’ve taken the speedbumps as a sign to knock it on the head, but not the Atlanta natives.
Their heart on their sleeve attitude and ability to grow and thrive under difficult conditions is something to be commended. Knocking out one of the greatest cover songs ever put to tape absolutely adds to that – Seriously, if you haven’t heard their cover of Sheryl Crow’s ‘If It Makes You Happy’, stop reading this and play it now, it’s absolutely stunning. Come back though, please.
Opening with ‘Feast or Famine’, there’s definitely a sense of growth, both in their writing and composition. Far more layered and dexterous, there’s a balance that wasn’t necessarily missing in their earlier work, but it’s certainly more pronounced. Crisper, cleaner but still maintaining the edge they’re known for. The opening twinkly medley may sound like the opening of every mid-west emo song, but it quickly gives way to something far thicker, far more interesting and, frankly, far more potent.
‘Tardy’ opens with a quote referencing “tackling kids, holding them to beds; is that psychotherapy?” before descending into a full conversation about industrial failures of health and educational systems towards the neuro-divergant. It’s here we see the real power of Jon Williams, who’s bass doesn’t just hold the main melodies, but dances about, subtly driving the track forwards, and follows suit on the following track ‘Murder Hornet Fursona’.
‘Murder Hornet Fursona’ screams with a PUP-esque energy; sardonic, punchy and some of their most pointed lyrics of their discography, it takes aim at those who judge the sexuality of others. Let’s be honest, the business of who loves and lusts after whom is solely for those involved, and anyone who judges someone for those traits can absolutely get in the bin. A hookline of “who’s pearls are you clutching now?” really sticks the dagger in to the prudes and, aside from being exceptionally memorable, would make for some excellent merch (Trademark Punktastic 2025).
Although MCP play the happy-sad punks, they write largely in a major key so it never feels too overwhelming. Songs like ‘Gracious’ and ‘Despite’ maintain a bouncier, jaunty side despite being so open, their lungs are on display. Elliott Brabant’s vocals allow a rugged fragility, gentle and tender at moments, spat venomously at another shows their ability to own their mistakes and accept consequences hits with a raw power.
Unashamed of pointing the finger, ‘Crypto’ calls out the crypto tech-dickheads who only see the world from looking down their nose, while ‘A Broken Face’ – a much more typical punk song both in sound and length – calls out the disparity between the class structure.
Lead single ‘Wisteria’ is a love song of kind – reflective and appreciated of the love and support received in the past. Brabant has their heart so on display, you can practically see it beating within their chest cavity like clouds through a window. It’s haunting, emotive and, despite being deeply personal, weirdly relatable. Close to 2018s ‘Portrait of a Woman on a Couch With Cats’, it’s chuggy and builds slowly, it’s main hook being the chorus line of “sorry I’ve been keeping you up”, it’s bound to be stuck on repeat.
Heading back to the opening point about Michael Cera Palin being brave – I knew I could bring it back around again – there aren’t many bands who can release a 12-minute song within this genre. The album namesake closing track clocks in at that length that takes more turns than a meandering river. Amongst the changes in sound, tone, style and delivery, Jon Buncic (who’s now left the band) pins everything together, remaining the consistent thread as Brabant wails and shreds, and Williams bounds around, peppering bassfills throughout. Focused on the journey of healing, it’s a sprawling epic that not only encapsulates their development as a band, but their development as people. Learning to heal each other and themselves, it’s this bravery that will fundamentally set them apart from their peers.
It’s been a long time coming for Michael Cera Palin to release their debut full length album, and ‘We Could Be Brave’ delivers more capably than the postman. Their progression as musicians and songsmiths are obvious, yet they’ve still kept the emotional edge that’s warmed them to so many. Having spent the last few years tirelessly touring to perfect their craft, letting their writing breathe for a year before recording, and letting the recording stew for a year till it’s reached the right consistency, there’s only one word for that foresight and ambition – Brave.
ANDY JOICE