While the dream-pop tag is probably still relevant, this isn’t algorithm-fed genre ambience. Gill’s vocal/lyrical presence can be as gently momentous as Leonard Cohen or as intellectually potent as any ’79-’80 Rough Trade post-punk.
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The band’s warm flicker of dream pop is rather irresistible and it’s easy to see how the album lured listeners into its woolen womb.
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Late-in-the-day album of the year contender? Very possibly. Or possibly it's just that this is the kind of music that appeals to my sensibilities so exactly it feels laser-guided in its execution. Perfect, even.
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