If everything has a time and a place, if everything can be pigeon holed, categorised and labelled, then ‘Letters Without Envelopes’ is music for a hazy, lazy, timeless, warm, sun drenched Sunday morning. It’s the perfect accompaniment to the aching aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and to the indelible feeling that there is no rush, no havoc to be wreaked, no panic to absorb us, nothing to worry about and plenty to feel good about.

This, the bands third self produced album is a collection of songs linked by a loose narrative of lives lived through letters, with one foot in the past and one eye on the future. It’s a heartfelt, all consuming, delicately melodious and effortlessly insistent story of live and of love, of hope and desperation, of positivity and desolation. It has a feel of melodious melancholia, it has hints of The Sundays, suggestions of Coastal, and a certain allegiance to Clayhill; however, it is in itself a thoroughly new adventure in lo-fi.

The initial chiming intro to ‘Nice to Have a History’ soothes the listener and guides you in, the rigidly structured, but delicately presented backing track is interspersed with slices of cutting harmony from the violin of Sarah Jones and vocals of Natalie Long.

“The same words, the same story, the same fear, you wrote it for me. The same names, narration, the same sorry situation.”

‘Distracted’ is a more intense affair, from the outset it’s a more ‘sit up and take note’ track, which pretends to fade midway through before pulling the rug from under your feet and building again as the chorus drenched guitar lines feed in, tied again with the luxurious layers of vocals before the track slowly fades with the slow silent final beats of a heart sodden with hateful disillusion.

‘The First Days of Winter’ combines a slow steady acoustic strum with a simple piano line and paints a perfect picture of the disintegration of a doomed relationship. Wrenching melancholia at it’s best. Whilst ‘Holidaymaker’ swings the pendulum to the opposite end of the spectrum, and we have Natalie Long’s optimistic vocal fighting through the bad memories and hopeless past being left standing by the hopeful potential of the future.

“...the future is not yet written boy...”

‘A Rolling Mountain, A Simple Song’ is far from simple, it has layers upon layers of three way harmonising vocals. It has an intensity, and a slightly menacing feel which pitches the sound somewhere between the darker side of R.E.M. and Neil Young. ‘What’s Wrong? Nothing’s Wrong’ is however and purely simple song, one and a half minutes of passionately and purposefully mislaid juxtaposition between harsh biting lyrics and calming, caressing guitar tracks.

‘One Eye on the Clock’ and ‘Forget Everything’ are a brace of stunning underground pop songs, both laced with a forced, twisted surge of hope despite everything that has gone before, submerged in the feeling that even if things turned out right, would it really be worthwhile, would it really be what you wanted, would it be for the best? The both ask all the questions that nobody can answer. I get the feeling that song writing is a way of purging those feelings and of exorcising those demons, and it makes me realise just how important that is.

‘Goodbye London’ and ‘The Same Words’ close the album. The former is almost an admission of failure, how a desire to be part of the bright lights, big city brigade just left a bitter taste in the mouth and a realisation of where you really belong. A recognition of how things might not have been quite right; a two fingers to the bad times left behind and a warm embrace for the new life ahead. The latter ‘The Same Words’ reprises album opener ‘Nice to Have a History’, almost as an instrumental, and shows just how good a track is musically.

In all, ‘Letters Without Envelopes’ is nothing radical, it’s not out there, it doesn’t document the unattainable, it plays out the realities of life and of love, of hope and of failure and does it all to a stunningly simple heartfelt and delicate soundtrack that is to be treasured.

If all songs have a time and a place then this record stands out as the most important in it’s field as a beacon in the darkness and a light at the end of the tunnel of despair. If all songs have a time and a place, then the time for these songs are right now, and their place is in your record collection. You should all own this, without a doubt.

Words by Johnny Mac
 

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