The Roundhouse almost couldn’t contain the sound. On the eve of the release for their fifth album, Dopamine Chamber, Fontaines D.C. put on a charity show in collaboration with the suicide prevention organization CALM at the 1,500-cap London venue, an underplay for the Irish musicians. The urgency of the crowd was palpable, a desire for proximity to the band and their music that threatened to swallow the venue whole.
Sitting up on the balcony, I saw someone in a balaclava lashing out with excitement. There was a man with devil horns at the front of the crowd — fitting for the band’s increasingly devious sound, and maybe a nod to the ones guitarist Carlos O’Connell wore in recent press photos. The stage was adorned with a giant F.T.D.C. sign, which flashed different colors during the show, and a giant silver curtain that looked like a big piece of agitated aluminum foil.
It’s been an intriguing journey watching the five-piece evolve from gray post-punk to neon new wave. Dopamine Chamber isn't euphoric in the way its title suggests. It extends the cinematic expansiveness of 2024's Romance, but without as many moments of pop release as "Starburster," "Bug," or "Favourite." "Mimesis" comes closest: Industrial clangs and tinsel synths announce a thrilling new direction, only for the lyrics to turn that rush into something ominous. "The everlasting now / Eternity is real" sounds less like a promise than a curse.
Where Romance made surrender feel almost thrillingly excessive, Dopamine Chamber strips away the illusion. Its synths shimmer, its vocals drift, and its songs seem to dissolve into a Lynchian dreamscape. But the longer you remain there, the less inviting it becomes. The pleasure curdles into paranoia. This is music that dazzles you until you realize you're in the dark.
The album is good, and I’m personally happy to see them linger in this territory where melancholic synths and flighty vocals swirl together like the aurora borealis. And for a moment I am swept up in the luxury of it all, the nihilistic possibility or "dream fog" on the stunning "Marianne" and succeeding album highlight "Mimesis." But that wooziness is only attractive for so long. As the album progresses, the electricity of blurred keyboards feels like laughing faces, and the project begins to feel freaked out. It’s an album that dazzles you until you’re in the shadows. The desire explored here, with promises of “living for a million years” and eternity, feel like sinister threats. It may not be their most ambitious project, but it feels successful in how concise it is.
After the suffocating density of Dopamine Chamber, the physicality of the live show felt like a reprieve. Around me, people stamped their Converse into the floor, shouted along, and threw themselves into the music. The album's morbid fixation on permanence gave way to something fleeting and immediate, the pleasure of being here, together, right now.
The same could be said of seeing the literal aliveness of the band. Vocalist Grian Chatten balanced the roles of jester and showman. At times he threw his arms up in a V, commanding the crowd to cheer but looking like a proud orchestra conductor. Other times, he stalked around the stage, his prance pliant with an eager vengeance. Still other times, he’d let the mic stand aggressively hit the ground or throw his tambourine on the ground like someone tossing a piece of gum on the street. Tom Coll’s drums felt and sounded immaculate. It was precious to see live band member Chilli Jesson dance emphatically while manning the keyboards at one point.
There was hardly any chatter from the group. They solely focused on the music, with Chatten announcing when new songs were played. Both "You Miss Me" and "Mimesis" had their live debuts. And there was a shoutout to Jack Rooke. The members traded instruments throughout the set, turning the band into something fluid and constantly rearranging. Coll remained behind the kit, his drumming immense and unwavering. The set mostly highlighted the new album, although they opted not to play “Demolition” and the closer “Intimate" — an unfortunate omission, though it's understandable to leave out such a death-obsessed track at a benefit for a suicide prevention organization.
The contrast of the newer material hit harder when mingled with their older hits. "Big Shot" sounded so good cushioned between "Japan" and "Happy For You." The sound of the venue made some songs feel expanded like vapor — the reverb on "Only One Man" is so chilling live compared to the record — while others buckled. The synths on "Japan" were overwhelmingly loud.
The set's most thrilling moments arrived when the band slipped into other musical worlds. The opening melody of the Replacements' "Unsatisfied" surfaced before "Jackie Down The Line,” followed by the unmistakable twinkle of Angelo Badalamenti's Twin Peaks theme. Even the closing "Starburster" began with a fragment of “In Heaven” from David Lynch's Eraserhead. These pockets of references extended the band's fascination with the uncanny, making the concert feel like another doorway into the dream logic of Dopamine Chamber.
Instead of fixating on death, the night was preoccupied with moving through life. The night’s main set ended with the grand Rosalía collab “Where Is Gone," a moving choice even sans Rosalía. "It’s just the start of another show to hurt you/ And make you feel alive" is the song’s closing line. Chatten’s soft, low voice made the final word feel like a mystery.
The band's official bio for the new album discussed how overstimulation and the world’s growing desire to become beautifully permanent fueled the strange clash of emotions on Dopamine Chamber. The oversaturation of information — oscillating between terrifying and entertaining — makes everything feel empty.
This idea is a stained silk shroud hanging over Dopamine Chamber, an album where the promise of eternity feels less like salvation than a threat. At the Roundhouse, though, the band made a convincing case for the opposite: that feeling alive means accepting the possibility of an ending. No one in that crowd needed to live forever. For a couple of hours, being there was enough.
Dopamine Chamber is out now via XL.