Coverville

Dark Compass

I seem to have struck a rich seam of post punk lately, and I keep uncovering genuinely exciting artists along the way. One of the most impressive discoveries has been PVA, whose sound feels both rooted in the genre’s stark foundations and willing to push beyond them. There’s a confidence and vitality to their music that makes each track feel purposeful rather than derivative, and it’s that sense of forward momentum that keeps drawing me back.
 
The album opens with "Rain", featuring the familiar blunt, spoken vocals, this time set above a wonderfully textured electronic soundbed that I could happily listen to on its own. There are also sung elements woven throughout, adding an extra dimension beyond some of the post punk artists I’ve been listening to lately, resulting in a much fuller and more rounded sound, which for me at times borders on sounding akin to Tangerine Dream.
 
The next track is "Enough" and it too has a fairly short title. In fact all of the track titles are relatively small, with the longest being just 9 characters, space not withstanding. The track itself has an interesting vocal segment, sounding almost like an North American Indian chant. What starts as a relatively light track, soon decends into something a little more frenetic, darker. And again it doesn't rely on the spoken word, instead all of the various elements pull a similar weight.
 
Musically, "Enough" opens with a striking vocal passage that carries a chant like quality, rhythmic and hypnotic. What begins as a comparatively light and spacious arrangement gradually tightens and intensifies, slipping into something more frenetic and shadowed. The shift feels organic rather than abrupt, as layers build and interlock. Unlike some of the earlier tracks, it doesn’t lean on spoken word delivery. Instead, the vocals, percussion, and electronic textures share the load evenly, creating a balanced and immersive whole.
 
"Mate" opens with immediacy, its percussion resembling glass bottles being struck. It’s that subtle experimentation with texture that keeps the listener engaged. The vocals are delivered with a clear sense of want and hunger, even if the lyrics themselves feel somewhat plain. That said, the simplicity seems deliberate, focusing on a central statement and driving it home in a way that feels true to the post punk style.
 
The experimental edge continues with "Send", which opens with something close to electronic white noise, though far less abrasive. A throbbing bassline soon emerges from the keyboards, providing a steady foundation as the lyrics are delivered in an almost staccato style. Various electronic textures drift in and out, adding detail without distracting from the central pulse, as the track remains firmly driven by that insistent bassline.
 
"Anger Song" opens on a more melodic note. While the lyrics clearly allude to anger, the vocal delivery often feels surprisingly sensual, with the sung passages taking on an almost angelic quality. It’s an unusual combination, but one that ultimately works to the track’s advantage.
 
The next track, "Peel", is another bass driven piece. The lyrics are open to interpretation, but the vocal delivery remains the focal point, dark and hungry, with flashes of urgency. Various electronic flourishes lift the track at key moments, preventing it from feeling too one dimensional.
 
When "Boyface" opens, there’s the faintest hint of melody buried deep in the mix, almost imperceptible. It briefly calls to mind Massive Attack, though the resemblance is fleeting. For much of the track, the vocal delivery carries a slightly Northern European inflection, while more melodic passages surface at times to add depth and contrast.
 
Once again, the band shifts direction with “Flood”, which opens with fully melodic vocals. An unmistakably 80s styled keyboard bassline follows, punctuated by the occasional flicker of flourish. There’s something about this track that truly resonated with me. It may well be the vocals, which seem to shine out of the darkness, fragile yet strikingly beautiful.
 
The reverb on the vocals in "Okay" briefly brought Laurie Anderson’s Oh Superman to mind. Yet the opening spoken delivery carries a sharper edge, heightened by the subtle sexual tension hinted at in the lyrics. One particularly striking passage reads: "I'm a siren. Get caught in my tideline. The wave. Okay. I'm the moment. Get stuck in me often. Funny day. Okay". I’m a sucker for sirens, so this line resonated with me deeply. Around the halfway mark, the track shifts into something more electronic and melodic, almost new-age jazz, yet firmly rooted in its electronic foundations.
 
The final track, "Moon", opens with a brief musical snippet that sounds almost as if it’s being played backwards, and for some reason it reminded me of Beethoven’s 9th. Though fleeting, it’s an intriguing segment, over in just a few seconds. The track is largely driven by staccato-style vocals, but these are balanced at intervals by more melodic passages, giving the song its own ebb and flow. As with other tracks, there are subtle sexual overtones in the lyrics, suggested rather than explicit.
 
I have to admit, I tried reviewing this album a couple of times but wasn’t in the right mindset to give it the attention it deserved. When I finally was, I found it to be a very interesting and, at times, engaging listen. There are certainly a few tracks that feel a little hit or miss, though as someone who isn’t an outright post-punk fan, that’s probably no surprise. Overall, it’s an intriguing release that has deepened my appreciation for the genre.

No More Like This

There was something immediately comforting about Amanda’s voice when I first heard it. It took me a while to understand why, but once again it was music’s ability to stir memories that provided the answer. Hearing her voice transported me back to Denmark in the early 90s. I was visiting at the time and found myself drawn to an artist playing repeatedly on the radio. Although she sang only in Danish, I bought the album as a kind of keepsake. I played it so often that I eventually found myself singing along to the entire record, despite knowing only the bare minimum of the language. That artist was Sanne Salomonsen, and the album was her self titled release, Sanne. Funnily enough, I did much the same with Vanessa Paradis, though that is a story for another time.
 
I had not listened to that record in over twenty five years, yet when I heard Amanda’s voice there was something strikingly familiar about it. While Sanne leans more toward pop, and remains the only album of hers I ever owned, there is a shared quality in both voices that feels remarkably similar to me. Perhaps it is the Scandinavian connection, with Amanda hailing from Sweden. She might well be puzzled by the comparison, but for me the resemblance is undeniable. Anyway enough of that, time to dig a little deeper into the music itself.
 
The album opens with "common, like the end", and there is something about Amanda’s voice that, earlier comparisons aside, feels wonderfully warm and enveloping. It has the air of a closing statement, almost as though it were designed to bring an album gently to rest. And yet, as an opening track, it carries a quiet sense of promise. Whether it proves to be a beginning or an ending in spirit is something we are left to discover.
 
"Mexico" opens aptly with a Latin tinged acoustic guitar. The track settles into an unhurried pace, and I cannot help but feel that the production carries a subtle 90s sensibility. There are faint echoes of Suzanne Vega and Jennifer Warnes, though never in a way that feels derivative or heavy handed. Instead, they register as gentle nods, which may well say as much about my own musical journey as they do about the song itself.
 
The next track, "grasp", introduces a measured pace and a gently propulsive rhythm, the drums rolling everything forward with calm assurance. Nothing feels forced or overstated, instead, the movement is soft and effortless. Paired with Amanda’s vocals, it creates a sense of quietly witnessing something joyful and special.
 
"groby" once again opens with acoustic guitar, though this time the tone feels brighter and cleaner. The chorus follows suit, carrying a lightness and lift that gives the track an upbeat edge. In contrast, the vocals introduce a more seductive, almost sultry quality, creating an appealing tension between brightness and intimacy.
 
The next track, “sick of time”, adopts a more sedate and gentle tone, shaded with a quiet hint of melancholy that is echoed in the lyrics. Despite its darker mood, there is a striking beauty running through it, carried by the understated musical arrangement. Even at over five minutes in length, it never outstays its welcome, instead feeling surprisingly fleeting.
 
When “never known like that” began, Fleetwood Mac’s "Never Going Back Again" immediately came to mind. Once again, it is an acoustic guitar driven piece, and it is the finger picking style that sparks the comparison, even if this version unfolds at a slightly slower pace and with a softer edge. That is not intended as a negative judgement, simply another instance of my mind reaching back through its own musical history to make sense of what it is hearing.
 
"is this how you said you’d be gone" is certainly the longest titled track on the album. It carries that same air of melancholy, yet never lingers there for too long. In fact, there is something distinctly radio friendly about it. There are moments that hint at a familiar structure, one I could likely dissect piece by piece, but that feels beside the point. Ultimately, it is simply a wonderful listen.
 
And just as I was settling in, “a mindless dark” begins, this time prominently featuring piano, providing a welcome contrast, or rather, a subtle variation to many of the other tracks. I was briefly caught off guard by the lyric "Rows and flows and…", half-expecting a more overt nod to Joni Mitchell, though that wasn’t quite the case. It’s moments like these that, for me, truly draw the listener in, especially those who have been around the block a time or two. And for those who have, the final verse, well, I’ll leave that one unspoken as it just might be my wild imagination.
 
I love the gentle opening and gradual build of "ours is a silent sun". The track moves at a relaxed pace, unfolding slowly yet with a quietly consuming presence. Amanda’s vocals are beautiful, but the music, and the production itself is equally striking, providing a rich sound-bed that results in a beautiful track.
 
The final track, "the moon in e minor" carries a subtle spring in its step, yet more importantly, it reveals another facet of Amanda’s vocals, which here take on a slightly harder edge. I also have to highlight the superb electric guitar work toward the end of the track. As the album draws to a close, I can’t help but again be reminded of Sanne, giving the record a satisfying sense of coming full circle.
 
As I wrote this review, I couldn’t help but feel that my words were falling short of capturing the album and Amanda’s vocals, in their full glory. This is a truly enlightening record, offering a special kind of refuge, a hideaway. Forty-three minutes of pure escapism, where the outside world simply fades away. A stunning album from an extraordinary artist.

embraced for a second as we die

When "Nosedive" began, the first thing I noticed was Ellis’ vocals, which had a rich, velvety depth to them. As the song unfolds, they shift to a lighter, more pop-oriented delivery, and I couldn’t help but feel excited about what was to come. At one point, I found myself smiling at the lyric “The world spins madly on” and couldn’t help but wonder if it was a subtle nod to the band The Weepies.
 
I really loved the lyrics to "Emergency Contact", although I have to admit there were a couple of sections that could have been tightened, particularly in the way they occasionally scanned, but that didn’t detract from the song, I’m just being picky, I suppose. The track opens with a simple acoustic guitar and gradually builds with subtle hints of keyboards and even what sounds like a banjo. These understated elements give the song a pleasing weight without ever overpowering it. Overall, it’s a lovely, biographical-style track.
 
There was something immediately familiar about "Hold My Breath", not in a plagiaristic sense, but in its warm and uplifting feel. Once again, I believe it’s a banjo that drives the song forward, though without that characteristic higher twang. When the strings come in, I’m completely drawn in, and the ethereal choral effect only deepens that engagement. An absolute belter of a track.
 
The next track, "fitymi", has a throbbing beat that makes it impossible not to tap your foot along. The vocals in places reminded me a little of Nate Ruess of Fun and The Format, they just have that, dare I say, "fun" and infectious feel to them. This is another song that surely merits radio exposure. 
 
The final track, "The Blueprint", leans less toward pop and more toward Americana, though it retains a pop edge and features slide guitar. It carries the same remarkable confidence that runs throughout the EP, serving as a strong and satisfying way to round things off.
 
I believe I first discovered Ellis on Instagram, and what a wonderful discovery she was. Vocally, the opening track hinted at her richer, more sumptuous sound, which doesn’t appear much elsewhere, but it showed she has an impressive range, and I look forward to hearing that explored further. This EP is a strong collection of great tracks, with one in particular standing out as my favourite. I’m genuinely excited to see what she releases next.

All That Comes After

I feel almost prudish issuing a warning before this review unfolds, but it feels necessary. This is punk, feminist punk, unfiltered and unapologetic, saying exactly what it means. And I loved every damned minute of it.
 
The EP opens with "WFH", an initialism that definitely does not stand for working from home, but it's close. And right away you can see where I’m coming from, or maybe not. I’m already tumbling down the rabbit hole of double entendre. It’s sultry, grungy, and deliciously irreverent.
 
The track that follows, "Tiny Shorts", leaves no ambiguity about its subject matter. When the line "They’re so tiny" kicks in, I was immediately reminded of Tom Green’s "Bum Bum Song", another paragon of literary excellence. All right, perhaps that’s a touch sarcastic, but it does not change the fact that this is simple, infectious fun.
 
And if you’re after more lack of subtlety, "Period Sex" is right up your street, yes, you read the title correctly. I won’t go into the lyrics, but they’re delivered in a post-punk style and are a little more in-depth than I was maybe expecting. Beyond the shock value, it’s pure, outrageous fun. I especially love the byline, "Who Moved the Towel?", for which you can apparently even buy merchandise.
 
"Pay Me More", if we want to be politically correct, is about gender-based pay imbalance. The band isn’t overly concerned with political correctness, so sum it up: “...promised me it was nothing to do with the fact that I have a <meow>.” At least the cat noise saves me from writing out the full lyrics, phew, but I'm sure you get the gist.
 
The EP opens with an initialism, and I thought ended with an acronym, but “W.I.T.C.H.” is really just emphasising “Witch,” a nod to that certain time of the month for women. As a man, I might be expected to stick my fingers in my ears and sing “la la la,” yet I’m completely enthralled by how awkward subject matter can become a fantastic track. The bridge, "That’s just my resting witch face" reminded me of a Doors track, though I can’t quite place it. Maybe it’ll come to me once I hit publish.
 
What can I say, this is just an amazing EP. It's irreverent, sarcastic, trashy, thought provoking, musically great and just an out and out blast. I can't wait for their debut album release.

Don't Blame the Peach

Just ten seconds into the first track, and I knew it had to be on my review list. In that brief moment, it was instantly listenable—catchy, engaging, and impossible to turn away from. 
 
"It Was Only Me" kicks off the album with a relaxed, joyful energy, instantly filling you with brightness and optimism. It’s the perfect way to set the tone for what follows.
 
The wonderful momentum continues with "Hold On To Love", which begins with a simple piano melody that weaves throughout the track. When the flute enters, it adds a breezy, carefree touch, giving the song an effortlessly joyful feel.
 
The mood softens with "In Emptiness", which leans into a more melancholy sound, yet William’s calming vocals provide a gentle, comforting presence that carries the listener through.
 
When "You Can’t Stop" kicked in, I couldn’t help thinking of one of those demo tracks that come pre-loaded on a cheap electronic keyboard. Maybe a little harsh, but that’s where my mind went. Luckily, the vocals take the lead, providing balance and keeping the song engaging.
 
With "River’s Flood", we get a refreshing contrast, as the track radiates uplifting optimism. Subtle production touches provide the vocals with a textured canvas, letting them take centre stage.
 
At one minute fourteen, the next track, "Where Love Takes Shape as a Democracy" has a title almost as long as the song itself. I soon realised that the vast majority of the tracks just over two minutes, with only one running slightly longer. Given its brevity, this track feels more like filler and, to my mind, could easily have been left out as it doesn't add any real weight.
 
With "Where Shadows Hold Sway", the album takes on a slightly different vibe. Its almost pop-formula feel doesn’t feel out of place, instead, it adds yet another colour to the rich palette of this great album.
 
Demonstrating the ebb and flow of the album, "December Cold" unfolds like a heartwarming story set against one of the colder months of the year, blending gentle melodies with a reflective warmth that balances the chill in its title. It’s a comforting moment in the record, offering both introspection and an understated emotional lift.
 
Almost on the flip side, "A Song Can Live On Forever" begins with the warming heat of the midday sun, yet retains a quietly melancholic core. The track balances brightness and introspection, creating a bittersweet mood that lingers long after the final note.
 
The mood lifts with "Stand Up Tall", which carries a more uplifting energy, as if the track itself is guiding the listener toward some kind of resolution. Its melodies feel encouraging, providing a sense of hope and momentum amid the album’s emotional journey. I love the closing keyboards, which have a feel very reminiscent of Pachabel's Canon.
 
The album closes with "MLK", opening with prominent vocals set against a relaxed, almost marching beat. The production is particularly noticeable here, with layers of colour added through subtle musical touches that enrich the sound. It makes for a thoughtful and satisfying conclusion to the record.
 
This is a wonderful album, ideal for when you simply want to unwind and let the day settle around you. Its blend of uplifting moments and softer reflections creates a comforting balance, making it just as suited to quiet evenings as it is to lazy afternoons. It’s the kind of record you return to not for drama, but for reassurance and calm.

Eternal Pieces

I initially thought Jenny on Holiday was an unusual name for an artist, and as the opening track, "Good Intentions", began, I found myself wondering if this might be a late Christmas album. The keyboard tones, at least to my ears, carried a distinctly festive feel. However, as soon as the vocals entered, it became clear that this was pure pop, and very good pop at that.
 
The title track, "Quicksand Heart", continues the pop sensibility. The same keyboards return, though they are largely confined to the chorus and feel more subdued this time, with the electric guitar taking more of a centre stage.
 
"Every Ounce of Me" opens by taking the album in a slightly different musical direction. The song builds gradually, and when it reaches the chorus, it carries a distinctly 80s feel, reminiscent of the soundtracks from many John Hughes films.
 
The next track, "These Streets I Know", also leans into that 80s aesthetic, but this time with a much slower, more reflective pace rather than upbeat pop. It feels perfectly suited to a pivotal moment in an 80s teen film, the kind of scene built around hesitation, hard choices, and quiet resolve. All of that conveyed in just over four minutes of excellent music.
 
"Pacemaker" also sits on the slower side, though it stops short of being a full ballad. At this point, Jane Wiedlin, formerly of the all girl group the Go Go’s, came to mind. It is not an exact facsimile, but there are clear similarities in both the vocal delivery and the song structure.
 
Once again, with "Dolphins", the tempo slows, this time taking on a distinctly droning quality. I do not mean that as a criticism; rather, it has a cyclical feel, a kind of hypnotic repetition that does not really go anywhere, yet does not need to.
 
The album opened strongly, but with "Groundskeeping" we remain in the slower tempo, and it is beginning to feel a little one dimensional. There is nothing inherently wrong with the song itself; rather, it is the continued lack of contrast between tracks that starts to stand out.
 
The same initially seemed true with "Push" but once the drumbeat kicks in, it begins to lift the mood. It never fully breaks free, yet there is a sense of gradual momentum, and to a degree, it delivers on that slow building promise.
 
"Do You Still Believe in Me" finally begins to answer that desire for greater momentum, moving the album in a more energised direction. It may not be a defining statement piece, but it injects a welcome lift and suggests a shift in pace that feels overdue. Placed earlier in the running order, it might have helped break up the slower stretch and added a little more balance to the album’s flow.
 
The album closes with "Appetite", and fittingly, it carries the feel of a closing scene in a teen 80s movie. With a livelier pace and renewed energy, it brings the album to a satisfying conclusion, leaving a sense of momentum and optimism.
 
There's a lot to like about this album. It opens strongly, but seemed to sag a little, which it had a hard time battling against, with redemption coming a little late in the album. For me this would have been much stronger, if it had more thought placed on the ebb and flow of the album as a whole. For those who consume their favourite tracks, a lot of what I've said will be of no concern, but for those who prefer to experience an album as a journey, the uneven pacing may require a bit more patience to fully enjoy.

Quicksand Heart

I always feel a little guilty when reviewing an artist whose name includes special characters. Unfortunately, the less technically inclined world and the difficulty many people have typing those characters when searching often make it easier to use a simplified version.
 
I have to admit that when I first saw Ásgeir’s name and learned he was from Iceland, I assumed the music would be deep, dark, and brooding. I certainly was not expecting vocals that are soft, calm, and so effortlessly easy on the ears. I also wasn't expecting a subtle and sometimes not so subtle country influence, which was at first at odds with my expectations, but once I just listened, it works surprisingly well.
 
The album opens with "Quiet Life", and it's one of those tracks that immediately fills you with anticipation, suggesting a promising path for what follows. It begins with light acoustic guitar and subtle synths that give the song a wonderfully airy, uplifting feel. The vocals then come in and add a gentle softness that perfectly compliments the music.
 
Things pick up a little with "Against the Current", driven by a restrained drum and bass groove. The vocals feel less like a focal point and more like an additional instrument, weaving through the arrangement before giving way in the final third to a muted guitar solo layered neatly over the rhythm section. I feel almost reluctant to call it radio friendly, but in truth, I think it very much is.
 
"Smoke" eases the tempo, opening with jangly guitar before gradually welcoming bass and drums. The vocals once again lean into a falsetto, but they never drift into Bee Gees territory. Instead, they lend the performance a touch of emotional fragility that might seem counter-intuitive at first, yet works beautifully within the song’s framework. There is even a hint of banjo, which you might expect to throw a spanner in the works, but it remains subtle and surprisingly effective.
 
There is something in the way "Ferris Wheel" opens that briefly reminded me of the 80s band Black, though the resemblance is fleeting. Once the vocals begin, the focus shifts. There is another intriguing use of falsetto here, particularly in the chorus, where it adds to the emotional weight and gives the song the feel of a quiet plea.
 
The country influence is nowhere more apparent than in the opening of "Universe", though it feels almost knowingly applied. The familiar twang of the guitar is present, but it is bent and toyed with for nearly a minute, as if being gently reshaped. When the vocals arrive, they provide a striking contrast, and while you might expect the combination to jar, it simply works.
 
When I saw the title of the next track, "Julia", I immediately thought of the Beatles song, a homage to John’s mother. Part of me hoped it might be a cover, as his musical sensibilities could have made for an intriguing interpretation. That said, what we do get is a wonderful, laid back song filled with warmth, sentiment, and emotion. 
 
"Sugar Clouds" bursts out of the gate with a markedly different feel, almost calypso in its rhythm. It conjures the mood of a laid back summer evening by the beach. You can almost hear the waves lapping at the shore and feel the light breeze against your skin. Ah, the power of music to evoke so much.
 
with "Stranger", there was something particularly intriguing about this track. While listening, I found myself consciously pushing the vocals slightly back and bringing the music forward. As I mentioned earlier, the vocals sometimes feel almost like another instrument, and here I wanted to get lost in the mix, giving equal weight to both music and voice.
 
From the get-go, "In the Wee Hours" carries clear pop sensibilities, and that’s certainly not a bad thing. It’s not an outright pop banger, but it fits perfectly into the album’s continual ebb and flow, which keeps the listener engaged. The track moves at a pleasant pace, and you can’t help but bob your head as it unfolds.
 
For me, a truly well-balanced album is one where I’m not constantly trying to predict how it will end. In this case, the finale is "Into the Sun", a simple yet beautiful track that strikes a perfect balance. It manages to be both emotive and thought-provoking without leaving the listener on a downer. There’s a sense of closure here that feels earned, a gentle conclusion that allows the album’s journey to settle naturally while still lingering in the mind.
 
This is a remarkably well-balanced album that continually surprises while remaining effortlessly cohesive. The music moves fluidly between soft, intimate moments and more upbeat, rhythm-driven passages, with vocals that often feel like an additional instrument, blending seamlessly with the arrangements. Subtle influences from various genres, including hints of country and pop—add texture without ever feeling forced, and the careful interplay of instruments and voice creates emotional depth that is both delicate and compelling. The album flows naturally, keeping the listener engaged without ever feeling predictable, and concludes with a sense of quiet satisfaction that lingers long after the final note.

Julia

I have to admit I’m coming to Callum Beattie with no prior knowledge. A glance at his biography shows a viral breakthrough on YouTube, followed by two albums, first with Universal and then with one of its offshoot labels. He’s clearly enjoyed a measure of success, but for whatever reason he’s chosen to release this, his third album, independently. That decision, fortunately gives me the opportunity to cover him here.
 
The album opens with "Two Pretenders", instantly grabbing your attention and then holding it effortlessly. I’ll get the Scottish comparison out of the way early. There are faint echoes of bands like Travis in his vocal delivery, but they feel more like a subtle nod than an influence worn on his sleeve, and they place him in very good company.
 
"Bed Is Burning" continues at the same high energy pace, but this time with a more driving beat that propels the song forward. Like the previous track, it has a distinctly stadium friendly feel, the kind where you can almost sense the crowd’s energy feeding back into the performance. Towards the end, there's a synth/strings swirl that my ears couldn't help but pick up on.
 
Thankfully, we get something of a reprise with "Lanterns". I’m never quite sure whether comparisons to other artists help or frustrate readers, but I find them useful shorthand for capturing a sound. As this track opens, I couldn’t help but think of "Little Wonders" by Rob Thomas from the Disney film Meet the Robinsons. The resemblance is fleeting, but I love the way music can instantly unlock memories like that. The instrumentation here is strong, but for me it’s the vocal that truly elevates the track, carrying an added sense of intimacy and heart. Again the strings are used to excellent effect and really elevate the track.
 
The album’s ability to deliver yet another standout track in "Pins and Needles" has to be admired. The vocals are vibrant and engaging, while the music provides the perfect complement. It’s a masterclass in songwriting.
 
"Red" takes a slightly different turn. It opens with a clear nod to the 90s, perhaps even with a touch of the 80s. In the verses especially, the vocals adopt a darker tone and, dare I say it, carry a hint of Billy Idol. It’s a different flavour, but one that adds another layer of texture to the album, and in my view strengthens it as a whole. And again, I love the string lead out, which blends and extends into "Interlude on Tarrif St."
 
The previous interlude fades seamlessly into "Sounds of Sirens". Once again, we’re given a slightly different edge. The verses feature a vocal effect that lends them an almost radio-like quality, while the chorus opens up into a much cleaner, more direct sound. There’s also a synth line in the chorus, distinctly 90s in feel, which adds yet another pleasing layer of texture to the track.
 
With "Fireproof", we circle back to the style of the opening tracks. It’s a thoroughly crowd friendly song, the kind you can’t help but move to. Tracks like this also give Callum’s vocals room to shine. There’s a subtle hint of accent in his delivery which, to my ears, adds an extra touch of character and flavour.
 
Those memories come flooding back again with "Birthday", which instantly reminded me of T. Rex’s "Metal Guru". The similarity is fleeting, but I love the journey the song takes you on. Perhaps it’s coincidental, I’m likely a bit older than Callum’s core fanbase, but who knows what musical influences shaped him? Whatever the inspiration, everything about this track screams, out and out banger.
 
"Sunflower" is a pleasantly laid-back track, but don’t take that as any kind of criticism, it’s nice to have a brief respite. I was going to say it’s not quite a “lighters in the air” song, but then I remembered we’re no longer in the 80s, so it would be cell phones now. Either way, it’s a moot point, I never smoked anyway. Now, where was I?
 
OK I alluded to Travis earlier in this review, but I think that comparison really comes to the fore with "Eyes on you". It just has that flavour, with both the lyrics and the hammering piano style in the chorus. It's not a piano, but has that same feel. I'm guessing it's a keyboard of some sort. such a great track.
 
The album closes with "Always Rains in Glasgow", a poignant lament that truly rewards careful listening. It’s a slow, musically simple track, built almost entirely from piano and vocals. The delivery is gritty and heartfelt and dare I say, the Glasgow equivalent of Streets of London, but with modern day sensibilities. It provides a wonderful way to bring the album to a close.
 
Not hearing any of Callum's music before, it’s immediately obvious that he combines strong songwriting with engaging, versatile vocals that capture attention from the outset. His style occasionally nods to Scottish contemporaries and hints at 80s and 90s influences, yet remains distinctly his own, blending stadium-friendly energy with intimate, heartfelt moments. The arrangements are varied, incorporating driving beats, synths, strings, and subtle production effects, all of which enhance the textures and emotional range of the songs. His vocal delivery is vibrant and charismatic, with a touch of accent that adds character, and the album balances high-energy, crowd-pleasing tracks with slower, reflective pieces that reward careful listening.
 
This is a truly fantastic album, with heart and soul and all the ingredients of a modern day classic.

INDI

I've become aware of some issues with email, which are preventing some emails from ending up in peoples inboxes and instead routing them to their spam folders. I've switched emails back to indielaunchpad@gmail.com and will change the links on the website soon. 

If you are a band, artist or someone connected to their management and haven't received an email, please feel free to get in touch.

Regards, Colin
indielaunchpad@gmail.com

Email Change

I’ve been a fan of Hollow Horse since the early 2000s, having first discovered them through a podcast. Like me, the band took an extended hiatus, returning in 2023 with a comeback release just as Indie Launchpad was undergoing redevelopment, making it an obvious choice for one of the early reviews. In conversation with the band, they hinted at another album, and by mid-2025, Five had arrived. Reviewing is an imperfect science, but suffice to say, here we are.
 
The album opens with a short track, just over a minute long, that serves as an effective introduction. Its sound is clearly influenced, at least in part, by The Beatles’ Revolution 9, giving the listener a playful and experimental foundation on which the rest of the album builds. It ends on the race track along with ambient noise.
 
The next track, “How You Look at Things / Through the Lens of Time”, opens with a brief keyboard segment before being joined by strong acoustic guitar and Kenny’s unmistakable vocals. It’s remarkable how little his voice has changed since I first discovered the band. Another notable change is the production, which feels far more cohesive than before. Listening closely, I found myself scanning the varied elements and appreciating the track as a unified whole, something I hadn’t fully experienced with their earlier work.
 
"Burning the Paper" opens with a decidedly edgier sound, combining guitar, a thumping drum track, and trumpets. It initially leads the listener down a different path, but when the vocals enter, they steer the track back toward the classic Hollow Horse sound. The earlier elements remain present throughout, but they’re balanced by the vocals, creating an engaging and dynamic interplay.
 
It’s funny how a track title sets up expectations. "I Died for You Once" began with a church organ, perfectly matching the image I had in mind, only to flip into a more acoustic-driven arrangement. The lyrics are darker, yet there’s a sense of release, or perhaps maybe indignation, that gives the track its emotional edge.
 
I wasn't quite sure what to expect when the almost ethereal vocals started on "You Are the Universe", joined by sparse guitar accompaniment, but then an acoustic guitar melody takes over and again it takes the song in a different direction to what's hinted at by the opening. I'm still getting used to the introduction of female vocals, not that they're a bad thing, just something different. When you're used to one sound, it can take a while to get used to change. I think here they fit beautifully and again this is a track where the production is again great.
 
As "I Generate Joy" opened, it felt like being hit by an 80s flashback. I could hear echoes of Michael Jackson, Duran Duran, and even a hint of Bow Wow Wow—a real 80s cocktail. Musically, it channels that era, and vocally there are subtle nods, one of them reminiscent of Talk Talk. For me, it was a curious track that triggered other 80s memories, and despite my initial knee-jerk hesitation, I actually really enjoyed it. The added vocal curio at the end was also a nice touch and at first I thought a different artist's track had started to play.
 
“Steal the Starlight” brings a more relaxed, laid-back vibe, built around a simple arrangement and understated vocals. I particularly loved the sax segment in the middle, which adds a lovely touch. While it could easily serve as an album closer, it also provides a reflective pause within the record, giving listeners a moment to breathe and pause for thought.
 
“Who Misses Out the Most / Ice Nine” opens dramatically with a crash of piano followed by a heavily synthed keyboard bass line, and I wasn’t quite sure where it was heading. When the vocals enter, they provide a touch of familiarity, but the synth bass continues to bubble underneath, giving the track a distinctly unusual vibe. A trumpet solo in the middle adds to the sense of unpredictability. Perhaps “strange” isn’t quite right, but the track feels experimental, almost cinematic. It then takes another 180-degree turn, closing with around 40 seconds of ambient electronic noise. Unconventional, surprising, and definitely memorable.
 
And we’re back to the 80s with "The Fire Is Worse Than the Fall", opening with a Howard Jones style keyboard intro. Once that fades, the song begins to find its own voice. The keyboard remains, but is used subtly, supporting rather than dominating. It’s a short track, yet it leaves a surprisingly strong impact.
 
I couldn't help but be reminded of Dire Straits "Your Latest Trick" when "For Every Fall There is a Rise" starts, with it's trumpet intro. However, I have to admit I didn't like the opening vocals, but as the song continued, the vocal style changed to something a little more conventional, but the former style does return. For me there's just something with this track that doesn't gel. It has a lot of different pieces, that I feel just don't work together.
 
I love the bright acoustic guitar that opens "All My Friends". Compared to some of the other tracks, it’s simpler and more conventional, but that simplicity works in its favour. Sparse synth keyboards and what sounds like a Rhodes piano appear occasionally, providing tasteful accents without overwhelming the arrangement.
 
"Twice as Good and Half as Bad" continues the simpler approach, this time leaning more heavily on piano. Subtle trumpet lines add a complementary flavour, while Kenny’s strong vocals are enhanced by tasteful female accompaniment, enriching the overall texture of the track.
 
The final track, “The Final Furlong”, returns to the sounds of the race track and its associated ambient noises before shifting to the simple piano melody that opened the album, ultimately fading to black and providing a satisfying sense of closure.
 
The record blends experimental touches, 80s-inspired flashes, and classic acoustic-driven arrangements, creating a dynamic balance between familiarity and innovation. The production feels cohesive, allowing both instrumentation and vocals to shine, while occasional female vocals, synth textures, and brass elements add depth and variety. Throughout, the band demonstrates a strong sense of musicality and emotional range, moving seamlessly between energetic, cinematic, and reflective moments. The result is an engaging, multi-layered album that rewards repeated listening and highlights the band’s continued evolution. For me there are some tracks I'm still not fully sold on, but who knows what additional listens will bring. That being said this is another cracking release from the band.

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