Maruja – ‘Pain to Power’ album review: A protesting force to be reckoned with
We live in a world where punk and protest music are no longer anti-establishment, but the total norm. How do you stand out in such saturation? Ask Maruja.
I’m not sure I’ve lived through a period of more severe political unrest. As Banksys are painted over, protestors are arrested, and divisive political commentators are assassinated, the world seems to teeter on a knife’s edge. Unrest boils over, people sit staring at screens, scared, confused and angry. As the world steps cautiously through these uncertain times, so too does music follow.
Music has always been a shadow of culture. Whatever is happening in the world, music has always been a representation of those things. As such, a lot of the music we hear today, and a lot of the musicians who make it, do so with an eye on providing commentary during this unprecedented period of time.
Punk used to be anti-mainstream, but as the product of revolution takes over the world, so too does punk become the musical norm. A lot of rebellious bands who speak of social justice and unity, regardless of how good their intentions may be, have their records drift off into the abyss of the obscure. It’s hard to stand out as the soundtrack to rebellion when people everywhere all want to rebel. So, how have Maruja managed to make something which continues to play into this theme of frustration but is also leaps and bounds ahead of any of its contemporaries?
Their debut album, Pain to Power, is only eight songs long, but the amount of musical ingenuity that is packed into those eight songs is well and truly something to marvel at. I have never stumbled upon an album before where it doesn’t feel as though a single second has been wasted. Every kick, every guitar hit, saxophone note played, they all seem to fulfil a purpose, to add to the chaos, violence, frustration, and overall power of this record.
Take the rage of today and bottle it, crush the glass in your bare hands and let out a scream, that scream is the equivalent of whatever Maruja has put into this record. Songs like ‘Look Down On Us’, ‘Trenches’ and ‘Bloodsport’ all add to the majesty that is this album. It’s every modern punk band but elevated, given wings so they can ascend higher than any kind of sonic rage has done before. As the world grows more tumultuous, I never thought there would be an album that could perfectly capture the feeling of those who are confused, scared and living in it, but Maruja have done that and much more.
So, why the missing star? The review reads four out of five, and yet I’m describing this album as faultless. Musically, yes, it is exactly that. There isn’t a second on this album that should be changed as far as the instrumentation is concerned. However, there are some lyrics which I don’t think are necessary, as they drag this album back slightly from its ascension, something that would have been in another league compared to everything else on the market, falls slightly on par with its contemporaries in certain moments, because there are spoken word sections on this album that simply aren’t necessary.
‘Look Down On Us’, for instance, is a ten-minute-long track. It doesn’t feel like it, that time passes quickly in the presence of such great music, but there is a spoken word section in the centre which isn’t the most wonderfully written thing in the world. While the words certainly have good intentions, they don’t offer anything that isn’t outside the norm of punk music’s persistent devotion to spoken word lyrics in the modern age.
If Maruja were the only band doing this, it would be spectacular, but you needn’t look further than Big Special, Deadletter and Lambrini Girls to find other punk outfits who also devote their time to an overwhelming abundance of words. Sometimes, in the face of such saturated literacy, these words, regardless of their good sentiment, can lose meaning.
This happens a couple other times on the record, and it just drags the ranking down ever so slightly; however, as a general rule, Maruja’s debut is pretty much perfect. During a time of overwhelming protest music and an overwhelming number of things to protest against, Maruja have made a record that may well be the one people look back on as the historical authority for this pocket of time. They really have taken a complicated moment and made it into a fantastic piece of music.
Defining track: ‘Trenches’ – Everything that is great about this album is packed and packaged into these three minutes. It is unrelenting in its rage and beautiful in its construction.
For fans of: Anything on the right side of history, the unapologetic release of frustration, and a good sax solo.
A concluding comment from the painted-over Banksy mural: “Censor this, dicks.”
Release date: September 12th, 2025 | Producer: Samuel W Jones | Label: Music for Nations
Never Miss A Beat
The Far Out New Music Newsletter
All the latest New Music from the independent voice of culture.
Straight to your inbox.