These transatlantic DAT-exchanging pals – whose members transcend the small problem of living variously in Greater Manchester and Texas – made a lot of friends with the phosphorescent psychtronica of their 2004 debut, ‘These Were The Earlies’. There was an argument, however, that their big, friendly songs and crowded stage shows followed in the novelty footsteps of The Polyphonic Spree. Here, then, they go a long way to prove that they’re no bunch of happy clappers.
Noisy Germans Faust and Can are far more appropriate references on this dark return than, say, Brian Wilson. Electro opener ‘No Love In Your Heart’ even manages to source Krautrock aces Cluster and The Beta Band at the same time, while ‘Breaking Point’ closes proceedings with an ominous crescendo of sitars and beats that bring to mind ‘Vanishing Point’-era Primal Scream. Easily the best moments are when these propulsive grooves dominate, run close only by the all-too-brief, ethereal synth-folk of ‘Broken Chair’.
Less appealing, however, are the kooky songs (‘Foundation And Earth’) or those that evoke The Flaming Lips, without Wayne Coyne’s vocal charm (apart from the glam-touched ‘When The Wind Blows’). But, after a turn as King Creosote’s backing band, The Earlies prove here that they’re more than up to striking out on their own.
