Nobody could ever accuse John Murry of being a fake. The Mississippi singer’s debut album, The Graceless Age, was an unflinching glimpse into the world of drug addiction and a life in free-fall. Finding redemption through music, Murry’s cathartic songs struck a rare chord, resonating with critics and audiences around the globe. Things were finally looking up. And then he fell again.

When his mentor, American Music Club’s Tim Mooney, died suddenly, Murry’s world plunged once more into chaos, a spiral that saw him lose his wife, his daughter and even, temporarily, his freedom. Then he moved to Kilkenny.

Relocating to Ireland seems to have brought some measure of peace to this troubled soul, enough to let him write again at least. Cowboy Junkies’ Michael Timmins, brought Murry to his Toronto studio to record this second record, with Timmins’ brother Peter on drums and Skydiggers’ Joosh Finlayson on bass. Murry brought along ex-Pogue Cait O’Riordain for good vibes and backing vocals.

The brightest star in Murry’s firmament, however, is the quality of his lyrics, as he veers from fiery anti-preacher, vowing “You will not nail me down to any plank of wood” on ‘Defacing Sunday Bulletins’, to Mark Kozalek-style diary entries (‘Wrong Man’), where he pleads, “The kids the cops kill, let me be one of them too”. This is no empty emo posturing; these songs resonate with the pain of a life hard-lived.

There are moments of levity amid the horror. The blustery shuffle of ‘Countess Lola’s Blues (All In This Together)’ is the ghost of Lou Reed jamming with Whipping Boy, as Murry references his time in Ireland (“From the gutter I saw stars, reflecting off Garda cars”), while the glorious ‘One Day (You’ll Die)’ is a beautiful rumination on mortality that doesn’t take itself too seriously.

Hugely impressive.