have come a long way since they formed in Belfast almost 20 years ago. Their self-titled debut, released via independent Derry label Smalltown America in 2009, proved to be the baby steps on the way to becoming the big beast that they are today. What that early release has in common with their seventh release, , is their intrinsic understanding conveying emotion without language.
And so while they’re routinely labelled post-rock, it’s an oversimplification that does them a disservice. is a tribute to the world they grew up in: Portrush, on the northern coast of Northern Ireland; and Belfast, the capital to the east. It’s an album that came out of lockdown, where they began to take stock of what they’d been missing once they were allowed to reconvene.
At the centre is the two-part , which switches from a noirish intro into Paranoid Android-like peregrinations, before an almost glam rock-like bounce takes the second part up a notch. Perhaps best of all, though, is opener , which is driven by the dazzling interplay of guitars between Rory Friers and Niall Kennedy. They dance between dexterity and nuance, leaving many of the bands they’re compared to in their wake Friers calls it a love letter to the North Coast: “Our friends there, the energy, the cold days skateboarding, the long summers in the sea, our beloved music venue, the closeness of it all.
” The track is infused with a playfulness and even a sense of humour, where the lumbering beast suddenly displays burs.