GALLUS are back, and life is bliss.
The Glasgow punks have unveiled their eagerly anticipated second album today, a record that they’ve described as an ‘angsty love letter to Glasgow’.
Nearly ten years ago, the band forged their identity in the city – in those small dingy basement venues on Sauchiehall Street, the early evening sets at TENEMENT TRAIL, Club Sabbaths at the Priory and many more. Where the mosh pits started and never quite stopped. Since then, they’ve become a bigger, more ferocious beast – supporting the likes of Biffy Clyro and playing festivals and sold-out shows all over Europe.
But it’s the city they call home that has so definitively inspired this second album. Coming together very instinctively in the space of four weeks in the studio before being produced by Blair Crichton (Dead Pony), ‘LIFE IS BLISS’ touches down on themes like community, identity and upheaval – all while deftly walking the line between serious and silly. It’s so very Gallus. A confident, heartfelt, explosive, emotionally charged, chaotic, complete record that builds on their debut and takes them to a whole new level.
So, on the eve of its arrival, we caught up with the band to hear more about it, their inspirations, Glasgow music scene and so much more. “It all came to life in January of this year” they start. “The whole thing was written in that month. The process was really enjoyable – going in and writing Monday to Friday, between whatever hours we felt gave us time to write to the best of ability. It still feels strange when people ask us what the album is about because I don’t think we had any idea while writing it, and I don’t think we will know fully what it’s about until enough time has passed that we can look at 2026 and understand what our lives were at that time.”
When they do look back at this period of writing in their studio, located in the city centre, it’s clear that their hometown subconsciously offered inspiration. Much has changed since they first started out – good and bad.
“It was hard not top be inspired by, confronted even, by the city and its best and worst parts. I think it’s fair to say the city is in a sort of transitional phase, to put it mildly. We’ve lost so much about what made the city great when we were younger and these things are now conspicuous by their absence. For all that the city’s vitality and creativity has never waned, unfortunately the city has been let down by some pretty terrible decisions over the last few years.”
In a recent Instagram post, they rightfully lament the loss of the Glasgow ABC – a loss that impacted venues around it, leading to more closures and as they say ‘the collapse of a very delicate ecosystem’. It was this ecosystem that provided the foundations for bands like Gallus in their formative years. As they tell us: ‘This band wouldn’t never have met if it weren’t for chance encounters on a very small strip of land over many years.’
‘There’s as much talent and enthusiasm as there’s ever been but unfortunately I do think there’s less opportunity than their used to be because there are less spaces for creativity. Less venues, less multi-venue festivals and less proximity. The music scene in Glasgow and it’s amazing talent deserves better than what it currently has.’
That’s not to sound all doom and gloom, though. Their frustrations come from a “genuine place of love”, they say – and you feel that passion pulsing through the record. The album’s cover, a stunning picture of the Finnieston Ash Tree, encapsulates this – a 200-year-old survivor and a symbol of optimism in adversity, of trying to find stability when things are changing around you.
You feel it in the sound of the music itself. When compared to their debut ‘We Don’t Like The People We’ve Become’, they describe it as ‘heavier, faster, sadder, dumber, smarter. Gallus on steroids!’. Typically self deprecating, it’s so much more. By taking the melodic swagger of that debut and combining it with the raw, aggressive energy of their ‘Cool to Drive’ EP from 2025, they’ve created their most ambitious and complete record to date.
Everything feels bigger, louder, more amped up – as if any track could be a single. In their own words, ‘a singable wall of sound’. Opener ‘Au Contraire’ sets the breathless pace instantly, an anthemic battle cry with huge gang vocals and rousing guitar parts. Other highlights include the brilliant ‘MK Des (Missing Out)’, an ode to a character they met in Milton Keynes and elevated by a saxophone solo; and ‘Stupid Dog’, an instant earworm that showcases their ability to combine humour, melody and controlled chaos.
‘Donnie Murdo’ also shines bright, with its excellent guitar work and a breakdown that lingers ling in the memory. When asked what they’re favourite tune is, this is their answer. ‘There’s something about the breakdown that really evokes the ethereal nature of the cover art, and that’s the song where the album takes its title from. I think it also has a sentimentality because it’s one of the first songs we wrote in the writing process.’
‘Something There’, a track that was written in about 45 minutes, brings the pace down for the first time – offering a welcome moment of respite from the relentless intensity. Perhaps the most meditative song we’ve heard from the band, it’s all centred around a huge, singalong chorus that feels as poignant as it does impassioned – yearning for glimmers of progress amid urban stagnation.
Rather poignantly, the album finishes with ‘M8’ – a darker, more brooding track about the motorway that famously carved through communities 50 years ago. The sound is reinforced by the starkly honest lyrics, inspired by a story of two friends separated when their homes were demolished for the motorway. They say: “Our studio is right beneath the M8 motorway, so it’s hard to avoid its oppressiveness. It’s huge, ugly, noisy, smells bad, and slashes through the city like a machete. It’s awful. The song is about the neighbourhoods that were demolished to make way for it, and the harm that caused. It was only we had a chance conversation about how awful it is that we decided to write about it and really dived into its tragic origin story. I would demolish it tomorrow if I could.”
In contrast to the raucous nature of the rest of the album, it’s a stark and memorable way to end the record, perfectly encapsulating the deeply human themes that lie at the centre of it.
But what do they want listeners to take from it? “In a way, it shouldn’t matter what people take from it, because that’s out of our hands once it’s out in the world,” they reflect. “But if I’m honest, I hope people come away from it with a sense of place, a sense of who we are as a band, and a smile on their face.”
It’s a fitting note to end on. For all the upheaval, frustration and change woven through the record, ‘LIFE IS BLISS’ ultimately feels like an act of defiance – perfectly encapsulating everything Gallus do best, marrying sharp, observational wit with infectious, anthemic punk rock. It’s a thrilling snapshot of a band only growing in confidence and ambition, and a record that belongs to them and Glasgow in equal measure. Go see them at the Art School next week on 2nd October.
