The Waterboys – Life, Death And Dennis Hopper

Perhaps one of the weirder releases of 2025 so far is this 25-song mammoth of an album from The Waterboys called Life, Death And Dennis Hopper. I’ll admit that I’m not really up to date with The Waterboys current discography, but they are one of those two hit wonder bands that scratch that classic rock itch every once in a while. “The Whole of the Moon” and “Fisherman’s Blues,” are certified nostalgic bangers and always make me relive hearing The Waterboys for the first time as I was getting into Bob Dylan or something.

Though this new album is quite a mysterious creature. For one, it’s completely dedicated to the cinematic life of actor Dennis Hopper (known for films like Blue Velvet, Easy Rider, Waterworld, and Apocalypse Now) and it’s quite a catchy rock album that sometimes really hits.

Lead songwriter, Mike Scott, is still chasing the big themes with undimmed fervour. On Life, Death, and Dennis Hopper, Scott turns his gaze toward the myth of America—filtered through the lens of mortality, memory, and a silver-screen icon who stood for everything unruly and untamed. One standout is the gargantuan, shimmery string ballad “Andy (A Guy Like You),” about Hopper’s friendship with Andy Warhol. Another track that feels like the older work of something like “The Whole of the Moon” is “Hopper’s on Top (Genius),” which is hoaky yes, but the piano lounge is quite catchy. Scott really is doing whatever the hell he wants.

Still, many of the best songs on this thing, which again, is 25 songs long, come from Scott’s work, over four years, with legendary and contemporary guest vocalists. We have the unhinged vocals of southern rock legend, Steve Earle, on the opener “Kansas,” which references Hopper’s directorial debut with The Last Movie, and sets the strange tone of the album. Later we get a deranged vulgar rock n’ roll “Frank (Let’s F*ck),” which recalls Hopper’s gas huffing villian character from David Lynch’s Blue Velvet. None other than The Boss, Bruce Springsteen, lends his vocals to “Ten Years Gone,” which is quite ’80s sounding with the movie star synths and funky bass and guitar. “Letter From An Unknown Girlfirend” is a gorgeous piano ballad led by the heartwarming vocals of Fiona Apple who starts straight up growling like Patti Smith at one point.

Life, Death, and Dennis Hopper is equal parts eulogy and exorcism. It’s messy, grandiose, sincere to the point of absurdity, which is to say, it’s like the vintage work of The Waterboys. And maybe the only way to honour a man like Hopper is to make an album like this.