FEATURE: OMB's guide to Oxford #3

*Originally published for Artrocker (21/1/13)

Scientists claim that today is the most depressing of the year. Crap weather, empty wallets and a lack of upcoming holidays are but a few of the reasons behind “Blue Monday”. To top it all off, there’s a chance that none of us are allowed to use our HMV gift vouchers (did you actually get any for Christmas? Yeah, didn’t think so).

In cheerier and more relevant news for the Oxford Music Blog's guide to Oxford, the city’s only independent record shop, Truck Store, will be celebrating its second birthday on 10th February. Blessing Force’s “sad disco” lot Trophy Wife will headline with support from Rhosyn, Salvation Bill, New Carnival and Jordan O’Shea. It’s a stellar line-up to say the least, and one that will nicely celebrate the city’s illustrious music scene. You should probably thumb through some records while you’re there, too.

If, like others of the 21st century convenience mindset, you prefer to get your music from the comfort of your sofa, then be sure to download the exciting freemixes of Kill Murray’s latest single, ‘For The Kids’. Ambient-pop newcomers, The Sea The Sea, have done a smart remix of the track. The man behind it, Dave Freeman, said: “I spent my teenage years before I learned to play guitar producing electronic music, so it was fun to go back to.” He also cites the support Kill Murray have given the band: “They headlined our first gig and helped us organise it. Aaron mastered our first single. It's nice to know other bands in the area because you can help each other out.”
 

Kill Murray were in session for BBC Introducing in Oxford last week and you can download the podcast for free from the Introducing website.

Saturday night also saw one of the biggest turnouts for Introducing in Oxford’s monthly Upstairs at the O2 Academy nights, with an explosive, sold-out headline set from Falmouth’s Tall Ships. One of the highlights of the evening was, undoubtedly, the performance by Introducing in Oxford’s adopted sons, Stratford-upon-Avon’s My Grey Horse. The show’s producer, Liz Green, has tipped the harmonic-pop lot for 2013. Local favourites Wild Swim and the elusive but rather wonderful Salvation Bill are also on the list.

   

Liz added: “We’ve also got a great electronic scene emerging in Oxford. Artists like Theo Bass and After The Thought are certainly doing things differently.”

Other local releases to get excited about in the coming weeks is the new single from The Scholars, ‘Love The Thunder’, Pixel Fix’s video for new song, ‘Rosa’ and the debut EP from cellist and “multidimensional artist”, Rhosyn.
Seb Reynolds of The Epstein and Flights Of Helios is also launching a monthly charity remix project. Proceeds from the downloads will go to Helen & Douglas house and the first instalment, a remix of ‘Dearly Distracted’ by Edinburgh’s Meursault, is available from his bandcamp.

Lastly, with Truck Store defying the digital age, the new online magazine for local music and culture, Spires, has announced plans to go into print from April. Editor Matt Ayres said: “I still see the value of print media in the digital age. To me, there's something timeless about leafing through a nicely written, well designed article on your favourite local or national band/artist when it's on paper. It feels more permanent.”

February’s issue sees an exclusive interview with local heroes Stornoway, who are playing two headline gigs at the magnificent Oxford Town Hall on 14th and 15th of February.

Who said January was depressing?

LIVE: Oxjam Oxford Takeover

Richard Walters

*Originally published for the Oxford Music Blog (24/10/12)

It’s a chilly Autumn night in the city of dreaming spires and something strange is happening. There are no university gowns in sight, nor any scantily-clad teenagers slumped on the side of the road. Tonight isn’t about the city’s students or tourists; tonight is a whirlwind celebration of Oxford’s famous musical heritage, its cosy contemporary music scene and the Oxford Committee for Famine Relief, now known globally as Oxfam. Put simply, it’s an exciting music festival that raises awareness about poverty and injustice without shaking a jar at you.

The Cellar is a welcome respite from the crisp air outside and has already been warmed by cider-drinking punters awaiting ToLiesel’s set. The band play like they’re headlining; their feet set wide apart, guitars held aloft like godly relics and lead singer Jack Olchawski glowing with confidence. New single, ‘The Light’ is a charming song that bursts open with energy, healthy Americana and swashbuckling rhythms, but ‘Whispered Half Asleep’ sees ToLiesel at their most accomplished.  Aquatic guitars quiver and heavyweight three-part harmonies boom around The Cellar’s tiny underground space. “I’m flattered so many of you are missing We Aeronauts for us,” Olchawski says wide-eyed, “try and see some of their set.” And with that, a quick walk next door to The Purple Turtle allows gig-goers to catch the end of We Aeronauts’ set.

Sweat is dripping from PT’s cavernous walls and We Aeronauts are looking suitably bemused on stage. Technical difficulties have actually postponed their performance and the seven or so twenty-somethings are beginning to share perspiration with the walls. When all things are go, their first few minutes on stage are understandably a little flustered, but lead singer Anna is a force of nature and really pulls the band forward with her Feist-like vocals. A twee accordion and trumpet nicely pepper their grounded folk-guitar, piano and drum arrangements, but ongoing complications with the sound lets them down a bit tonight.

Sisterland

Thanks to the hard work of the festival organisers, all the Oxjam venues are in close proximity and the clubs themselves are fitting for each act. Take Sisterland for instance, a fuzzy garage-punk who have been wholeheartedly embraced by the local Blessing Force collective. They couldn’t be better suited and booted for Modern Art Oxford, A.K.A. Oxford’s hipster haven (it’s a visual art gallery-cum-performance space that sells seasonal food and soft grain leather rucksacks, for Christ’s sake). Musings aside, Sisterland play a remarkable set. The lead vocalist’s choir-boy vocals add a sugary sweetness atop the trio’s concoction of heavily distorted guitars and thrashing drums. Their set is criminally short, but Pet Moon are on next.

Sporting a rather unconventional short back and sides, Andrew Mears of Pet Moon immediately jumps into action, strutting around the stage and bouncing his RnB vocals off Modern Art’s whitewashed walls. They’re regulars on the local circuit and have been in some form for years (Mears was one of the original founding members of Foals and the since-dissolved Youthmovies). But it’s a rather odd affair watching them tonight. Mears intermittently hits the high notes and rarely engages with the audience, which is a surprise when considering the context of his established musicianship. Perhaps it is just his style. It could also be an extended metaphor for their somewhat disjointed and unpredictable music, where synths scurry like mice, trigger-sharp rhythms cut and splice and warm vocals wash with the beat. Their sound certainly lies somewhere between ambient producer How To Dress Well and a modern Prince, especially on the rousing ‘Superposition.’ Pet Moon have some fascinating experimental sounds at their disposal, but they just need to find a way to execute them live.

Pet Moon

Shortly afterwards at The Turl Street Kitchen, Empty White Circles take over the stage like there isn’t a moment to spare. Fronted by two American brothers but seemingly rooted in Oxford, the five piece play glorious Americana and rootsy folk ballads. Lead vocalist Kevin Duggan is a young incarnation of Marcus Mumford, who projects with a wholesome country hum and ‘woahs’ like he invented it. ‘Positives’ is an infectious shuffle-pop tune played with remarkable assuredness, but it’s ‘Adventures’ that really sells the band live. All five of them flank the edge of the stage and just as the Duggan brothers lull the crowd with their honeyed harmonies, the whole band stomps in unison like a strange, sedated hoedown. It’s powerful, engaging and damn-impressive from start to finish, just like their entire set.

Empty White Circles

Lamp shades add a rather domesticated feel to the venue, perfect for headlining solo acoustic hero Richard Walters' stripped-back sound. He’s just flown in from Ireland and looks bloody knackered, grinning and bearing the first few songs but eventually warming up to the attentive crowd. Walters is a captivating performer who never once opens his eyes but completely envelopes audiences in his stories of love, loss and life. New single, ‘The Escape Artist’, proves that he doesn’t need a full band behind him to stun everyone to silence. The recorded version – although in itself a beautifully undercooked composition – features yearning strings and tumbling drum patterns, but it couldn’t be better heard than live with just Walters and his solitary guitar.

The Turl Street Kitchen is enjoying a quiet crowd that takes comfort from Walters’ aching melodies and ecclesiastical vocals. Recognising this, Walters decides to dig out a couple more songs from his back catalogue, including the mesmerising, ‘Weather Song’, in which he compares his lover with natural elements over a trickling, plucked guitar.

The fact that Walters brings Oxjam Oxford to its close with this song is not only fitting for tonight’s breezy Autumnal weather, but it nods to the city’s love for performers of all kinds – from lo-fi garage bands to sensitive one-man band balladeers. After tonight, Oxford should be extremely proud of its charitable and musical heritage.

REVIEW: Jonathan Boulet - We Keep The Beat, Found The Sound, See The Need, Start The Heart

*Originally published for the Oxford Music Blog (1/10/12)

"Oh my god, you’re dead, oh my god, you’re not dead"/"It’s all real, you’re a fake.”

These are just a few of the paradoxical lyrics etched into multi-instrumentalist Jonathan Boulet’s sophomore effort, We Keep The Beat, Found The Sound, See The Need, Start The Heart, which paint pictures of a somewhat troubled 24-year-old. But the fickle nature of Boulet’s lyrics is unfalteringly swamped with vibrant tribal percussion and choral chants that actually work to juxtapose Boulet’s oft-melancholic stories. This to-ing and fro-ing between bright music and heavy wordplay immediately presents something a bit different and perhaps worth lending your ears to.

Opener ‘You’re A Animal’ (Boulet’s grammar) acts as a one-song montage for the entire album. Ferocious primal drums, dissonant brass and cock-sure power chords make a premature statement that this album is all about relentless ENERGY. 

Not one to hush for long, Boulet leads us straight from the plummeting, ‘You’re A Animal’, into the startling marimba-pop of ‘This Song Is Called Ragged.’ Excusing the incorrect musical ethnicity, but imagine an Indonesian gamelan on steroids and you’re there. Attention has clearly been paid to penning the vast, unyielding rhythm section; it seems Boulet has hardcore in his blood or a similar high-energy rock genre.

The first few songs on the record stage a tedious saga of pounding drums, but ‘Dread Is This Place’ and ‘Hallowed Hag’ offer much deeper, and different, textures. ‘Dread Is This Place’ goes all Animal Collective with soaring multi-layered harmonies and mashed-up psychedelic melodies, but ‘Hallowed Hag’ one-ups it with goose bump-inducing melodies, flamenco rhythms and spindly guitar chords that crawl over Boulet’s rasping vocals.

‘Mangle Trang’ and ‘FM AM CB TV’ are strong examples of Boulet overdoing it on the percussion front, with trigger-sharp drums spewing all over melodies that would have, at the very most, benefited from light rhythms. Chamber-pop melodies lie at the heart of ‘Piao Voca Slung’ and album-closer ‘Cent Voix’, which thankfully deviate from Boulet’s obsession with crashes, bangs and wallops. Unfortunately, the former doesn’t promise a complete recess from drilling percussion, but he clearly is a rhythms man and lets that remain at the centre of his songwriting.

We Keep The Beat, Found The Sound, See The Need, Start The Heart is sometimes wonderful and sometimes not. Wisps of ingenuity flutter about the songs’ surfaces, penetrating intermittently into deeper, emotional depths.  The clattering of drums, however, is always thumping at the back of your head, and regardless of the Boulet’s remarkable musical talent, you begin to get a bit of a headache.

REVIEW: Friends - Manifest!

*Originally published for the Oxford Music Blog (29/6/12)

Brooklyn’s Friends are the new funk-punks of pop, the crème de la crème of cool and, quite literally, the kind of people you want to be friends with. Stick on their debut album, Manifest!, and you’ll feel that little bit closer to their world of street parties, hedonism and don’t-give-a-fuck mantras. With last year’s, ‘I’m His Girl’, going sonic on the blogosphere, have the five piece lived up to all the hype?


Coincidentally, opener ‘Friend Crush’ is all about vocalist Samantha Urbani’s unabashed desire for friendship: “I want to be your friend, I want to ask your advice on a weekday, I want to plan something nice for the weekend.” It’s this honesty that makes her just so damn cool – sassy vocals surfing over growling bass lines and drums burning with her desire to kick start a new relationship. ‘Sorry’ is very Vampire Weekend-esque, with fluttering synths, bouncing cow bells and alternating ‘ooh/ahs’ making it also instantly likeable and soft on the ears.

As expected with a band from Brooklyn, there are the token 80s moments. ‘A Thing Like This’ is a lethargic regurgitation of effects-laden New Order guitars, RnB-kissed vocals and disco synths. The lullaby-like ‘Stay Dreaming’ is just as retro in its sound, with its lush new wave textures beaming Cocteau Twins’ ethereal sound.

Buzz-song, ‘I’m His Girl’, effortlessly demands your attention with a thumbed bass circling Urbani’s half-rapped/half-sung vocals: “When you see me walking around with him, I’m not just another chick, I’m his girl.” Rhythm lies at the heart of the song, with more of Lesley Hann’s bossy bass lines thumping against the rest of the troupe’s jungle percussion.

Unfortunately, Friends’ authenticity crumbles at ‘Ruins’ (pun intended). Two minutes of painfully try-hard thrashy and trashy post-punk spoil the preceding chic of the earlier tracks and it sticks out like a sore thumb. Furthermore, you’d be forgiven for thinking a 90s J-Lo song had gatecrashed the party in ‘Ideas of Ghosts’, with its Mediterranean guitars and pulsating bass. But at the same time there’s something quite captivating about Urbani’s unearthly wails.

Towards the end of the album, ‘Proud/Ashamed’ challenges the idea that Friends are all about rhythm. Close harmonies coo over oscillating synths and it doesn’t sound unlike Braids with its dream pop progressions and netted vocals.

But it’s ‘Van Fan Gor Du’ that really shows Friends at their best. Fresh funk pop seeps from every snare snap, hand clap or call-and-response shout. This, along with the muddy bass and bongo drums of ‘Mind Control’, sums up everything about the band. Fun.

Friends aren’t reinventing music on Manifest! or swallowing fifteen minutes of buzz-fame. They’re just hosting a party, and everyone’s invited.

8/10

REVIEW: Sea Of Bees - Orangefarben

*Origininally published for the Oxford Music Blog (24/4/12)

Often, the simplest songs in music are the most enthralling. An unassuming, three chord structure with an infectious vocal melody can be as compelling as an improvisational jazz piece or Hendrix’s ‘Electric Ladyland’. But when someone as gifted as Sacramento multi-instrumentalist, Julie Ann Bee (aka Sea Of Bees) fails to match their arresting vocals with equally-arresting song structures, you realise that talent can be wasted a little on simplicity.

Two songs into Orangefarben, ‘Take’ hears the sleepy acoustics and lyrics of love, lust and heartbreak that dominate the rest of the album. ‘Gone’ follows a similar pattern, albeit for an attractive phaser guitar effect, but it is not vastly different in sound from its predecessor. This gentle folk rock is part and parcel of Sea Of Bees’ sound (evident in her previous album Songs For The Raven) and there is, of course, nothing wrong with this. What is perplexing, however, is that Ms Bee has astonishing vocal drive, ability and emotional give, yet a lot of her music in Orangefarben lacks such ambition.

Thankfully, there are moments on Orangefarben that do startle. ‘Broke’, for instance, has all the ingredients to rival Sharon Van Etten’s ‘Give Out’ with it close guitars and crumbling vocals, and ‘Teeth’ is a vivid lament for falling in love with the wrong person, tinged with slick country guitars and drums that punch regrets head-on, “And I know I shouldn’t think those thoughts and I’ve gone ahead and thought those thoughts.”

Further still, Ms Bee and co’s cover of John Denver’s ‘Leaving On A Jet Plane’ (shortened to ‘Leaving’) is just as emotive and rhythmically animated as ‘Teeth.’ Sampled, shuffle-pop drums loop around biting acoustics and Bee’s layered harmonies are at their most dexterous and astounding here. Stand-out track, ‘Alien’, clocks in just before the album’s close; storming ahead with whizzing keys, defiant guitars, cracking wood blocks and distant vocals that scream a lover’s betrayal. It’s surely a crowd-pleaser live and adds much-needed variety and spice to the album at a pivotal point.

This assortment of sound is what can be heard initially on ‘Give’ (earlier in the album) and in ‘Grew’ at the album’s close. The former carries a jovial bass line with unpredictable beats and muted guitars, but before long the cuddly, star-twinkling melodies that saturate the album return and strip the song of its individuality. ‘Grew’ does emit a more experimental sound with grinding electronics, ethereal synths and mournful vocals, but, unfortunately, it fades into the background and is quickly forgotten.

Orangefarben is not without its share of solid songs, nor is it spared of its mediocre ones. It is a record lyrically charged with all the emotions of a shattered relationship and Julie Ann Bee couldn’t wear her heart more on her sleeve. But musically, it lacks the spark that no one can deny she can fuse. An ambitious sophomore effort perhaps wasn’t on the agenda, but it is exasperating that Bee has primarily dotted her artistic palette with shades that do not show off her full, vibrant colours.

5/10

LIVE: Lanterns On The Lake @ O2 Academy Oxford 4/4/12

Photo by Hannah Cordingly

*Originally published for the Oxford Music Blog (9/4/12)

The moment that Hazel Wilde of Lanterns On The Lake places a doll-sized lamp atop of her amplifier before her band’s set tonight, you’re sure that some drama is about to happen. What soon appears in the six-member collective from Newcastle, however, is not drama but extraordinary reserve. The stage lamp isn’t acting as some radical, outward statement, but serves as a subtle group emblem. Wilde’s meekness, by traditional standards, also doesn’t ratify her position as a dramatic front man (or rather, front woman). But this doesn’t matter, because a brash and bold attitude would go against everything that makes Lanterns On The Lake so special.

In accordance with their latest release, Gracious Tide, Take Me Home, the set is awakened by the rousing, looped samples of footsteps in ‘Lungs Quicken’. Each member shuffles to mark their territory: to the right, Sarah Kemp locks her head to her violin, swaying urgently; to her right, Paul Gregory bends the neck of his guitar with playful, involuntary-like movements; and centre-stage, Wilde cements herself to the microphone, exhaling each note with a breathy calmness. It’s a strange sight to behold, because each member performs within their confined space and yet is bound to the rest of the group.

Sadly, the levels are a little unbalanced at points. Adam Sykes’ acoustic is barely audible below his warm, Geordie hum in ‘If I’ve Been Unkind’ and Kemp’s twisting violin is drowned out by the swirls of bowed guitar noises and thumping drums in ‘Tricks’, regardless of their elegant interplay.

The Geordie bunch constantly pepper their set with surprises, such as a thriving rendition of ‘You Need Better’ that swelters with a hefty southern guitar riff, off-kilter rhythms and a crystal tambourine. ‘You’re Almost There’ is the most unexpected success live: where shadows cast themselves on hollow cheeks; an asserted piano melody stands tall against jarring strings, and cinematic whooshes blanket the crowd in supernatural ambiance.

With some of the musical details drowned by the sheer multitude of instruments onstage – and what a multitude it is, with nearly all of the members swapping guitars or glockenspiels at every instant – ‘Not Going Back To The Harbour’ is a reviving set-closer with over half of the group singing in unison, projecting away from their mics. The glorious choral singing allows the band to radiate with a rare confidence right at the last minute, which, although uncharacteristic, is a brief and welcome change from their self-effacing identity.

REVIEW: Jonquil - Point of Go

*Originally published for the Oxford Music Blog (23/3/12)

The closing of one chapter often allows a fresh start for the next. Jonquil are thus in the perfect position, having seen a flurry of line-up changes in recent years with three members leaving to form Trophy Wife and a new member joining the ranks. But have these new dynamics breathed the “new lease of life” that frontman Hugo Manuel had so hoped for? Certainly, but perhaps not to everyone’s taste.
Point of Go is a more light and upfront affair than Jonquil’s previous releases. With the blossoms of spring upon us, this is quite a welcoming sound; the insanely happy bubblegum tones of ‘Point of Go Pt.2’ and the 90s-inspired piano jolts on ‘Getaway’ are charming; the boo-doo-wap harmonies and fiesta drums on ‘Mexico’ have a hunger for warmer climes. Yet there is something irksome about the melodies on the album and it is difficult to pin-point why.
The LP’s first single, ‘It’s My Part’, is carried by cow bell rhythms that syncopate with an animated Foals-esque guitar and Manuel’s narcissistic lyrics, “It’s my part, and I will play it how I want”. It is a catchy song, but not the strongest choice for the album’s lead single. ‘Real Cold’ is similar in its immediacy, with bass, guitar and drums stealing the limelight from the vocals in unison and allowing mature brass instruments to embellish the melody.

‘Run’ sees a simple continuation of the many elementary pop structures that consume the record, save for its bold, reggae-inspired chorus and ‘Swells’ is a throw-away track. But with the album’s many blunders, however, comes its promises. It is the reserved tracks that ironically shed the most joy.‘Psammead’ is a pretty instrumental, laced with a forlorn piano that trails behind a desert guitar riff. It plays for just over 60 seconds, but it stays with you long after the album’s close. The progressive, ‘History Of Headaches’ projects uncanny Chad Valley (Manuel’s side project) harmonies, with Kid-A era keys and thrashing tom toms and resonates just as much as ‘Psammead.’

But it is the buyout vocals, ethereal guitars and glitch synths in, ‘This Innocent’, that really demonstrate the band’s potential, even if the song harks to Jonquil’s by-gone, edgier sound.

It is this nostalgic feeling that swamps your listening: there is something missing in their reincarnation. Their darker sound has virtually disappeared and the line-up adjustments seem to have curbed their openness to experimentation. For some listeners, this breezier sound will be an unwelcome change, but for others it is the start of an exciting new chapter.

6/10

REVIEW: Die Hard - 'Die Hard'

*Originally published for the Oxford Music Blog(10/2/12)

In a world of ever-merging musical genres, the inevitable results are the fusing of sounds that do and do not work together. Moreover, a band/artist’s identity may become blurred or enhanced in consequence of garnering such different sounds. Unfortunately for music writers, Glasgow’s Die Hard do not fit nicely into any of these boxes. Their experimental debut LP is at once remarkable as it is perplexing, comforting as it is disturbing. The band’s identity and their musical magnetism comes and goes.

‘In The Garden’ and ‘Here Goes The Rage’ strongly illustrate this dichotomy. An exciting, high-pitched whir akin to a surfer-rock tannerin opens the former track, before disfigured strings and dark European synths converge in bizarre fashion. The devilish, pitch-bent repetitions of “in the garden” evoke Biblical imagery that is soon intercepted by gratuitous, pornographic wails. It isn’t exactly a pleasant listen, but it is unique. A complete u-turn follows with, ‘Here Goes The Rage.’ Crisp, tinny acoustics and dazzling floods of “here goes the rage again” circle around Celtic whistles. It is extremely catchy and very reminiscent of early Biffy, yet at the same time comparisons are rife with Baltimore experimentalists, Animal Collective.

Soon enough, tracks arise that are not so appealing to the ear. The slowed-down, unpredictable trip-hop rhythms and aggravating, industrial bleeps on ‘Mmmm’ make for an interesting composition (an aptly-titled track too, with nasal groans trailing throughout). But aside from this creative musical playfulness, is the track actually any good? I’m not so sure.

It is frustrating that while the LP has its enticing moments, with ‘Here Goes The Rage’ and the attractive psychedelia of ‘Nailed To The Cross’, it never quite satiates. The mutated sounds that harvest the record’s gloominess are zapped by marching drum rolls on ‘980c’, but the track’s nascent strings remain bound. The smooth chillwave foundations of ‘See You Later Defibrillator’ are alluring, but never break into the beats you so crave.

The centre-piece of the album, ‘Shiver Through’, is the strongest track. It is a crafted dream with languorous interplay of female and male vocals paralysed by lust and tumbling guitars. Yet lust is, and you are, deserted by the track’s indistinct ending. Even if it is meant to be some kind of extended metaphor for sexual dissatisfaction, it is a vexing, but also an astonishing listen.

At the very last point on the album, Die Hard barrage you with hope. ‘We Said You Might Be Dead’ is a homage to every single choral-group based song ever written. It is as vast as Sub-Saharan plains with its unified, fiery tribal hums, and it is as promising as a Scottish army ready for battle with its stirring, Bagpipe drones. Synths ripple, warped vocals roar and tambourines build. Then it stops.

Die Hard’s eponymous LP will divide listeners as much as it will continue to divide me. The band’s intermittent identity will also continue to baffle. Perhaps it is intentional, but are they forgiven for the give-and-take nature of their music? Yes, because their potential is enormous.

7/10

REVIEW: OMB's Albums of 2011: Fleet Foxes - 'Helplessness Blues'

*Originally published for the Oxford Music Blog (23/12/11)

Pecknold and co. returned this year with a more ambitious follow up to their critically-acclaimed debut. Billowing flutes and Middle-Eastern tinged violins are but a few of the experimental nuances that have expanded Fleet Foxes' signature sound of open-tuned guitars and glowing harmonies. Tracks such as the toe-tapping, variably structured, ‘Helplessness Blues’ explore the album’s complex motif of maturity, while gentle, jazzy snare snaps in, ‘Bedouin Dress’ offer escapism to the tranquil, Yeats-inspired, “Innisfree.” Certainly, the most brave move on the album (and by the band to date) exists in, ‘The Shrine/An Argument’, with bizarre, dissonant trumpets that succinctly reflect the brashness of a passionate feud. A colourful and triumphant return.