
From industrial rhythms to existential crises, DEADLETTER channel life’s tensions into their compelling debut ‘Hysterical Strength’.

From industrial rhythms to existential crises, DEADLETTER channel life’s tensions into their compelling debut ‘Hysterical Strength’.
From industrial rhythms to existential crises, DEADLETTER channel life’s tensions into their compelling debut ‘Hysterical Strength’.
Words: Jack Press.
Photos: Derek Bremner.
Remember that scene in Twilight where Edward saves Bella from being crushed by a car? She might've guessed Edward was a vampire, but passersby chalked it up to a freakish display of hysterical strength. For Yorkshire-born art-punks DEADLETTER, it's the title of their debut album — but it's not as deep as you think it is. It's not supernatural; it's just life.
"I think the idea of hysterical strength, which is this physical manifestation of mental anguish, actually applies to most people's daily lives," posits frontman Zac Lawrence, slumped on his sofa with bassist and housemate George Ullyott. "I think it's just a byproduct of observing what's going on around you and responding to the society in which you live."
'Hysterical Strength' then, as an album, is concerned with the struggles we face in everyday routines and the wars of attrition that take place either at home or in wider society. Whether it's memorialising wrong 'uns as moral citizens ('Bygones'), accepting how much of a political mess Great Britain has become ('Deus Ex Machina'), or just how far a parent will go for their children ('Mother'), DEADLETTER stick you on a carousel of chaotic character studies and send you for a ride to find your own meaning.

Whether it's the fact they've been working all day long as landscape gardeners or they've perfected the art of assuming a poker face, Zac and George remain reluctant to divulge the details for nearly an hour. If you're looking for a starter for ten, you'll get a smattering of bread crumbs.
"I always want people to take their own piece away, but if I was to sum it down to one succinct answer, I'd say what it is to be a human being," Zac suggests. "It's not the meaning of life — I don't have the answer — but I think that's the best that I can describe it as because that's what's informed my lyric writing process the most; it's just humanity and observing and taking part in it."
Most of us won't be mining deep for philosophical nuggets. Few of us will shake the songs like a Magic 8-Ball for the answers. But don't be fooled — every syllable Zac sings has its place.
"I never write lyrics just to write lyrics. I always write lyrics to try and get something across. Sometimes I write to try and understand something — something that I'm still torn on, something that I still haven't made my own mind up about," Zac states matter-of-factly, his sentences appearing as streams of consciousness, much like his polysyllabic lyrics. "I think that it can help me to come to my own conclusions by actually writing about something, and sometimes it can do the complete opposite."

