NTTR - No Time to Review

The Singer in My Band is the kind of album I can listen to without resistance, but that is also part of the problem. Almost everything is agreeable. The guitars are warm, the banjo is tasteful, the vocals are intimate, and the songs are short enough that none of them becomes irritating. But very little really catches. “I Will Eat My Heart in the Morning Light” is a good example. The melody is pleasant, the arrangement is clean, and the track sets the tone quickly. But once it ends, I do not retain much beyond the general warmth. “Oh No Now My” is more interesting because the guitars become rougher and the Alex G influence is more obvious, which gives the song some friction. NME also points to that shift. “Billy Came Back” is catchy enough, but it feels like a well-made song in a style I already know rather than something with a strong identity of its own. “Watching Heaven Fall” leans more clearly into bluegrass, helped by Amos’ family background and his father’s banjo playing. That...

Your Day Will Come is one of those albums where I can understand why critics are excited without really sharing the enthusiasm. Chanel Beads have a recognisable sound, and almost every track contains some detail that catches my attention, but that does not mean I enjoy the album very much as a collection of songs. “Drums Only” sets the problem immediately. The bass pulse is good, the strings and electronics gradually fill the space, and the production is certainly interesting. But once it ends, I remember the texture more than any melodic idea. That becomes a recurring pattern. “Song for the Messenger” works better because there is an actual refrain I can hold onto. The pedal steel gives it warmth, while Shane Lavers' loose vocal delivery keeps it from becoming too polished. NME hears the album as more disciplined and song-based than the previous record, and this is one of the tracks where I agree. “The Coward Forgets His Nightmare,” “Profane Break” and “JBL in the Fireplace” l...

Soft Control is a record I find easier to respect than to get excited about. The Afghan Whigs sound completely comfortable with what they have become, and there is nothing embarrassing about a band ageing into a less volatile version of itself. The problem is simply that removing some of the volatility also removes part of what used to make their songs memorable. “Jungle Roux” starts well. The groove is heavy enough, Dulli immediately sounds like Dulli, and the mixture of rock and soul still feels natural rather than retro. “House of I” continues in roughly the same space, but already I start noticing how much the vocal is doing. The instrumental framework is effective without being particularly distinctive. “Duvateen” is much better because the band stops trying to fill every space. The piano changes the emotional character, Dulli sings with less theatrical pressure, and the song feels vulnerable without asking me to admire its vulnerability. Pitchfork is particularly positive abou...

These Killing Times sounds bigger than Engine of Hell , but I do not think it is automatically better because of that. Bringing the band back gives Emma Ruth Rundle more range, more distortion and more movement, and that certainly helps after the extreme isolation of the previous record. Still, once the initial impact wears off, I am left with a set of songs that are more uneven than the production first suggests. “Powerless” is a good opener. The piano-led restraint and heavier chorus create a clear dynamic arc, and this is one of the places where the full-band setup immediately earns its place. “God’s Picture” is more delicate, with a warmer build and more vocal space, but I remember the atmosphere more than the melody. Kerrang also emphasizes how the song grows gradually rather than relying on immediate heaviness. “Anvil” is solid but less distinctive. The arrangement is detailed, the vocal performance is strong, and the darker spiritual tone suits Rundle, but it does not leave m...

Second Song is pleasant, fragile and occasionally very moving, but I think I was rewarding the mood too much before. Neil Young still knows how to create a space where very little can feel meaningful, but here that trick does not work consistently enough. “The Foggy Edge of Time” opens the album in a restrained way and sets the tone immediately. Piano, soft rhythm section, tired voice, very little urgency. It sounds honest, but I do not think the song itself is especially strong. “Day After Day” is better because the melody is clearer, and the seven-minute runtime gives the band enough space to make small changes around Young without forcing a climax. Pitchfork hears the album as deliberately hypnotic, and this is probably the best example of that approach actually working. “Earth Girl” is where I start losing interest. It is more compact, but also more ordinary. The title track is much stronger. At over eleven minutes, it repeats a simple progression for long stretches, but the at...

Estrus is easy to understand and quite easy to enjoy while it is playing, but I do not find much reason to return to most of it. The whole album is built for immediate impact: short songs, direct hooks, dense production, very little downtime. That makes the first listen efficient, but it also means the songs often feel finished before they have developed into anything memorable. “a lot of feelings, no solutions” works as an introduction because it states the idea of the album directly. Then “I’m your girl right?” gives me the first proper dance track, and I understand why some reviews respond strongly to it. Slant describes Estrus as Tove Lo’s most nightclub-focused record, and that is obvious very quickly. The beat is strong, the vocal is confident, the chorus does its job. But once the track ends, I do not feel much need to hear it again immediately. “if I could I would” is more interesting because the subject matter is darker and more personal, but at just over two minutes it f...