Auf dem zwei Jahre alten Debüt von Die Zärtlichkeit spielte Jangle-Pop noch eine größere Rolle, der Einfluss von Bands wie The Smiths war unverkennbar. Dabei schien ein Song auch clever Morrisseys enttäuschende Irrungen und Wirrungen zu verhandeln, ohne konkret Namen zu nennen. POPSONGS, das zweite Album des Quartetts, wirkt etwas rougher.

Das gilt für den Ohrwurm „Vienna“, „Angst“ und auch den rockigen Titelsong. (…) 

Im besonders melodischen „Mixtape“ singt Andreas Fischer melancholisch von Dachböden und archivierter Vergangenheit, die ein Eigenleben entwickelt hat. „Schlechtes Vorbild“ klingt eher heiter, widmet sich aber Desillusionen und früheren Helden, die man heute durchschaut hat. Tobias Emmerichs eingängiges Gitarrenspiel passt zu den mehrdeutigen Texten. Endlich denkt eine Band mal an Menschen, die sich im Frühling zu Hause einsperren und diese diffuse Angst aus den unendlich langen Schulferien nicht vergessen haben. Diese POPSONGS sind eindeutig großartig.

(musikexpress)

From the first clatter of drums and squalling guitars on The World Doesn’t Need Another Band, we are in the familiar territory of lo-fi textures, chiming guitar chords, and vocals that feel like overheard monologues. Donaldson’s singing is less about fronting a band and more about wistfully narrating a life. Even the more energetic cuts (I Only Ever Wanted To See You Fail, Your Cult Is on Fire) carry that reluctant acceptance that defines his songwriting.

The album moves with a rhythm that reflects its subject matter of day jobs, toxic friends, inner demons, and minor transgressions. Slow Torture Of An Hourly Wage feels like a thesis statement: its skipping drums and stabbing guitar chords conjure the numbing grind of precarious employment, while the keys briefly suggest something loftier. Elsewhere, You’re Never Safe From Yourself channels that anxious propulsion into something anthemic, as the drums push the song forward with a purposeful urgency.

But it is the quieter moments that linger. Richard In The Age Of The Corporation offers a Jarvis Cocker like study in weary observation, with circling guitar lines and lawyerly poise. And the final track, There Must Be A Pill For This, stands out for its finger-picked acoustic guitar, echoing vocals, and abrupt end that feels like the title is a question left hanging.

(13th Floor)

Lightheaded makes a muscular kind of twee pop, with shimmering, wafting, girl-group vocals floating above a surprisingly emphatic foundation of rock-oriented guitars and drums. The opening track of this third full-length, “Same Drop” is feather-light but grounded, juxtaposing swoony, dreamy vocals with clarion runs of guitar and a trailing rattle of tambourine. (…)

This album is backloaded, with several of the best tracks coming right at the end, like the Left Banke-ish folk psychedelic “Garden” and “Patti Girl” which shares the same guitar lick, but in a more rock setting. Doo-woppy “Love Is Overrated” is just as good, with its stop-stepping, Phil Spector rhythm (boom bah-boom-boom etc.) and wheedling organ threads. The vocals don’t come in until nearly halfway through, but when they do, surrounded by string flourishes, they bloom like night flowers, sweet, overwhelmingly so, but touched with mystery and sadness.  

(Dusted Magazine)

Some moments recall the later records that the first incarnation of the group made in the 90s, but the lyrics and performances are imbued with much more desperation and wisdom. It wouldn't be Comet Gain without those two factors present in heaping doses, and almost every song here -- barring the hilarious Fall-inspired "Threads!" -- sandblasts the soul with wild emotional impulses, tears hearts asunder with bloody melancholy, and serves as a call to arms to the true believers. All the fancy arrangements and instrumental flourishes can't distract from the brilliance of David Christian's lyrics and the way he and Rachel Evans sing like every song is the last one they will ever do. They do add something special though, and the overall approach proves a resounding success. 

(All Music)

Their first album in six years, Letters to Ordinary Outsiders, might be the most Comet Gain title ever. It features songs originally released on Bandcamp, now spiffed up alongside a few new ones. The album was conceived as a series of postcards to those “ordinary outsiders,” and this batch of open-hearted janglepop anthems—dressed up perfectly with gang choruses, brass, vintage organs, and references to like-minded fellow cult heroes like Julian Cope and Robyn Hitchcock—doesn’t require membership in a secret club to enjoy.

Adding to the charm are interstitial spoken word missives—almost like reading postcards—between Feck and his bandmates. “Do you know what the fifth Golden Rule of Underground Rock is?” asks producer Sean Read. “Never stop.” Thank goodness Comet Gain have been following this one all along.

(Brooklyn Vegan)

Musik, die, grob gesagt, die Ansätze von The Byrds in den späten 60ern und Big Star in den frühen 70ern fortschreibt. Auf eine Weise, die zwar ohne große Studios auskommt, aus der bei allem DIY-Spirit aber auch eine Menge detailverliebter Mühe spricht. Zugleich jedoch klingen Pale Lights unbedingt nach ihrer Heimatstadt New York. Und das gerade, weil ihre Songs so viele unterschiedliche Ansätze vereinen. Zum Beispiel die Geschichte, die der britische Leadsänger und Rhythmus-Gitarrist Phil Sutton mitbringt. In den 90ern war er mit Comet Gain Teil der zweiten Indie-Pop-Generation. Gesanglich wiederum gemahnt er gelegentlich an den jungen Lloyd Cole, dessen Stimme man damals aber nie in so warmen Produktionen hörte wie bei Pale Lights.

(byte.fm)

Und so ist auch dieses Album eines, bei dem der Kontrast die Musik macht. Er tut sich auf zwischen tiefschwarzen Lyrics wie jenen von „Freak Mode“, in dem Williams in seinen zerrütteten Zustand während einer Zeit eintaucht, in der er vor lauter Trauer nicht mehr er selbst war. Und einem Sound, der passgenau an die lebensbejahende Energie des tollen Tubs-Debüts DEAD MEAT anschließt.

(musikexpress)

Auf „Cotton Crown“ machen Owen Williams’ eindringliche Stimme und George Nicholls’ Gitarrenarbeit den The-Tubs-Folkrock-Powerpop zwar weiterhin einzigartig. Was dem Album aber fehlt, ist Songwriting, das da mithalten kann. Bei Stücken wie „The Thing Is“, „Chain Reaction“ oder „Strange“ hat man das Gefühl, die Band rennt einfach Hals über Kopf los, ohne zu wissen, wo sie hinwill.

(Rolling Stone)

While there are still remnants of the Laughing Chimes' earlier jangle in the song's bright acoustic guitars and peppy tempo, the band's once-carefree vocal style is now more serious and pushed into a different space in the mix with a dark reverb treatment. The change is dramatic but not indicative of weaker material. "He Never Finished the Thought" has all the energy and songwriting personality that the band have always exhibited, only now they're leaning more into the influence of the Church or Echo & the Bunnymen, with chorus-soaked bass lines and yearning synth melodies informed by the Cure's best albums. "High Beams" is another stand-out track that doubles as an example of how the Laughing Chimes are still very much the same group even with this new direction. The song bounces along in a patchwork of nicely arranged hooks and dynamics, again riding high on waves of Cure-like synth melodies.

(All Music)

Whispers in the Speech Machine is a bold evolution for The Laughing Chimes, demonstrating their willingness to push beyond their early jangle pop roots. The album’s darker textures and expanded instrumentation create a more immersive listening experience without losing the melodic charm that first set them apart. By embracing reinvention, The Laughing Chimes prove they are more than a nostalgic throwback—they are a band with a future worth following.

(The Fire Note)

Swinging between glimmering disco pop like "Always on My Mind," quietly sung and played ballads ("Bluebells"), and lightly swinging vintage indie pop ("Break My Heart"), the band continue to recall great bands of the past, while never sounding in thrall to any one of them in particular. Helping to make the record special is the very fine production by Ian Catt that gives the songs an extra shine, and the increased reliance on backing vocals. Adding fellow Elefant artist Cristina Quesada to the vocal mix, Alpaca Sports fill in the spaces behind the lead vocal with soft clouds of harmony that wrap around the melodies like a warm breeze on a spring afternoon. The best songs on the record bundle up all these positive factors and deliver indie pop good enough to compete with the bands that have so inspired them. "Tomorrow I'll Be Fine" is a super jangly, very peppy song that bursts with melancholy and has a truly beautiful chorus, "Slipping Through My Fingertips" is a swoony neo-disco track complete with strings and a very tricky bridge, and "Tell Me"'s sophisticated pop shows how far the band have come in their pursuit of indie pop perfection. They aren't far off, and Another Day is the kind of retro but brand-new album that should have fans of classic indie pop both old and new lining up to sing its praises.

(All Music)

As a result, the brilliance of the janglier end of the 1990s Britpop scene engulfs the The Boy Who Ran The Paisley Hotel, with the album bookended by the neo acoustics of The End and Points of Light, which assume the mantle of being the greatest tracks that Noel Gallagher never trained monkey to sing, albeit augmented by the more subtle intricacies of Pastalaniec’s incidental jangled riffs that drift about with such beautiful purpose in the background.

The more driven 90s jangly indie-rock sound, recently brilliantly revived by The Shop Window, drags the listener on its dynamic Britpop coattails in Why Don’t You Come Out Tonight and Say Hello. Similarly, Britpop emerges in Another Way Home, Words You Say, and the simply stunning beauty of Negative Monday, which offer a dulcet, smooth, almost suave Olympian-era Gene essence that sidles through the jangle.

Of course the album would not be a Chime School release without the preppy, vibrant jangle-pop that American acts have a tendency to excel in with Give Your Heart Away, Wandering Song, Desperate Days and (I Hate) the Summer Sun all offering a jangle-fest that is reminiscent of The Telephone Numbers and The Umbrellas aesthetic.

(Janglepophub)

Love In Mind shines with strumming electric guitars, tight bass lines, and punchy drums, offering a warm backdrop to eleven thoughtfully composed tracks. This is an album that fits equally well as a soundtrack for a quiet afternoon or a long drive, its melodies staying with you long after the music stops. There’s a summery feel here that makes standout songs like On My Mind and Quiet Crown glow, even as the days grow colder and greyer. These tracks aren’t just catchy; they’re brimming with the kind of melodies that stir up goosebumps. The album title is well chosen as the songs perfectly evoke the joy and wonder of falling in love.

(Add To Wantlist)

Three years on from their debut Once Home, No Longer, sophomore album Love In Mind is an indisputable indie pop triumph. Ruminating on love and connection via the myriad of emotions and pitfalls that frequently befall us all, Mt. Misery’s huge hearted harmonies and memorable melodies offer warmth, hope and an abundance of light.

The shimmering pop of On My Mind and Don’t Remind Me’s poignant jangle are my personal favourites across initial listens, but in truth the band do not put a single foot wrong across Love In Mind’s eleven stirring tracks. Unwaveringly beautiful and frequently moving, each song is a gift.

(heavymetalkids)

Granted, the songs on Every Heaven may have a ring of overriding familiarity about them (and indeed there are a few moments on some of them where you get that nagging feeling that you’ve come across that melody before) but that’s a minor and rather trivial issue, given that all ten songs are pure shameless indie pop perfection of a kind that has been sadly lacking for too long now. Indeed, sometimes it’s a welcome tonic and a refreshing antidote to much of the everyday sounds that have been assaulting our ears with so much relentlessness.

So who really cares if Every Heaven is unashamedly retrogressive and harking back to a long-gone era in some ways? Certain genres will always remain timeless and ultimately transcend all fads and trends regardless of whether they’re still ‘cool’ or not. On the strength of these sparkling pop confections collected together on this impressive debut, Loren Vanderbilt III certainly knows a thing or two about combining bittersweet sentiments with infectious choruses whilst harbouring a genuine passion for crafting brilliant tunes that proudly have all his musical influences on display.

(Louder Than War)

Driven percussion intensity propels the chiming 90s guitar flourishes of The Railway Children or earlier Aztec Camera into the jangly indie-rock stratospheres of an act such as Ducks Ltd, resulting in the glorious “road trip jangle-pop” of tracks best represented by There and Back Again, the simply sublime Superbloom and Wave Goodbye that rivals any elongated opening to any album during recent times.

Diluting the intensity (if never totally relinquishing it) only serves to emphasize the jangled beauty still further. Here the crystalline, chiming resonation of Felt-style riffs pervades every available space in Test of Time, whereas the understated jangle-pop of Chime School confirms that Vanderbilt’s ability to find the most precious of jangled riffs and hooks remains firmly intact.

(Janglepophub)

The well-established Swiss/American duo churn out a sublime, shimmering guitar-pop sheen swaying on a slippery ground soaked in fragments of distant memories, washed by a thin mercurial rain of sparkling jangly guitar melodies, sewing eternal crystalline yet gloomy nostalgia around sad emotional female vocals longing and pondering “What happens when the rain?”         

(White Light / White Heat)

The Blue Herons (…) produce a jangle-pop tune of the highest order with Endless Rain. DeVault’s maudlin words are at odds with the shimmering guitar sound. As Jossi’s retro pop strings glisten Davault sings “What happens when the rain won’t end”? I know. Listen, play, repeat.

(Records I Like)

On Unwishing Well, The Reds, Pinks & Purples deliver a much more intimate setting compared to last years The Town That Cursed Your Name. The tracks stay mellow but punchy with Donaldson’s lyrics that can just bring an instant rain cloud that we love!

(…) “Your Worst Song is Your Greatest Hit” is a cutting commentary on the commercialization of music and the pressure to produce hits. Donaldson sings it with a true conviction that you know rings true with so many other artists. “Unwishing Well” is the title track that wrestles with wellness and wishes, reflecting on the sobering reality of skepticism. “Learning to Love a Band” explores obsessive fandom and the blurred lines between idolatry and isolation. “We Only Hear the Bad Things People Say” reflects on human fallibility and the tendency to dwell on negativity as Donaldson sings “In my dreams, you’re still shining.”

(The Fire Note)

Despite tracks such as Warp and Blue/Golden Sunshine still offering similarities to the juxtaposition of subtle gaze and fluttering The Field Mice-style incidental jangle that was core of much of their previous back catalogue, Taking Pictures of Taking Pictures feels somewhat more dank, gloriously impersonal, and altogether ‘massive’.

As such, the sheer brilliance of lead single Clipping, I Can’t Stand the Rain, Kleber, and the simply immense standout of Sundays marry the indie chic of droning vocal disinterest to chunky post-punk basslines as isolated jangled riffs pierce the gaze-laden atmosphere with sheer melodic dominance. It feels all manner of Luxembourg Signal in aural texture, but with every sense of ‘dreamy fluffy’ withdrawn as a matter of obstinate principle.

Beyond the above melodic, things get even darker and uncompromising with Anything and the title track offering crushing cinematic, droning atmospheres that assume a sense of stunning foreboding, whereas Breakdown and its echoed call into the dark vocal isolation feels like The Stone Roses finding their inner post-punk.

Still brilliant, still perfectly jangle-gaze, but now with perfect ‘dank’ additions, The BVs continue to assume the mantle of the most important jangle-gaze act around.

(Janglepophub)

Opening one's heart without suggesting a certain amount of self-pity is one of the risks of making an album like this, but on Don't Look Back, Scottoline is clearly aware of how much blame there is to go around and what was his fair share, and his sadness isn't treacly, it bears the ring of honesty and truth, and the clarity is effective. Along with a batch of great songs, Don't Look Back finds Hurry in excellent form in the studio; Scottoline and his bandmates fill the performances with great rock & roll energy and impressive instrumental interplay, and engineer and co-producer Ian Farmer is equally adept at documenting the crunch and sparkle of the guitars. If the phrase "power pop" sounds limiting to some, Scottoline and Hurry remind us how much you can say when you put those ingredients together, and Don't Look Back is their strongest, most resonant album to date.

(All Music)

The straightforward heartbreak that Don’t Look Back captures is the core of the record. It’s peppered with a healthy collection of details that are so familiar to anyone who’s been through a breakup. Scottoline waits for phone calls to be returned, talks things over and stares at his ceiling “inside [his] shitty bedroom.” Even with that forward-thinking title and “The Punchline,” a closing ode to moving forward the best you can, many of these songs still do emotional somersaults. One of the record’s most despondent lines––”Am I the one you still call baby?”––emerges on the album’s lead single, “Beggin’ For You.”

There’s a great moment on “Something More” where Hurry finds momentary transcendence. The drums and guitars drop out for a beat, Scottoline’s voice becomes slightly more dejected as he sings “I’ve waited a long, long, long time.” Those singled out vocals genuinely feel like an emotional breakthrough, in part because of how winningly they’re performed. Don’t Look Back is centered around that waiting—for something old to end or for something new to start. While Hurry have clearly internalized that the waiting is the hardest part, the band is beyond gifted at turning that uneasiness into wonderful pop rock.

(Paste Magazine)

Overall, though, Nothing Lasts Forever is characterised by Blake’s return to careful optimism. In the percussive, piano-led Self-Sedation, he turns McCartney-esque while quoting William Blake’s Auguries Of Innocence (“‘Some are born to endless night’/I’d say my namesake got that right”). In Back To The Light, the band brilliantly circle back to their primary Big Star influence as Blake joyously details the ending of a gig and the sheer wonder of jumping back on the tour bus before motoring off into the night.

It’s a song that encapsulates Teenage Fanclub in 2023. The years have proven that the deceptive simplicity of their music only increases its potency, working hand-in-hand with their long commitment to the healing powers of brotherhood and melody.

(Mojo)