This 5-track EP jangles and chimes into focus off the back of a lovely acoustic hook, harmonising into matters of the heart with lightweight effortlessness. It's the title track, and there is some soul mining taking place without doubt.
Sleigh bells signal a repeatedly dug-up past, and the arrangement is gentle and lovely. Add some strings and the sepia toned past, and the downtempo 'When The War Is Over' is like a continuation, with that thousand yard stare firmly fixed on the unblinking horizon.
'South Pole Stag Night' is a half-folk, half ceilidh number with the same gently shifting beauty. The tone though – oh dear me! This is the voice of the silly sod that hangs on the periphery of feminist thought, with no grasp at all of the basics – and anyway it's the women's glossies that Mr Black needs to be reading! Ironic comment about the content of GQ does no man any good whatsoever. Shouldn't lower y'self maan!
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However, it's the one slur on a record which aims and mostly hits the target where affairs of the heart are concerned. The music is painstakingly well assembled, and the feel is delicate, but the songwriting is a bit of a cliché collage. Plus points include the scratch of vinyl, and the addition of the trombone in the final offering, 'Takeshi'.
You might like it. I don't.
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