So Recordings Vinyl & CDs

Review: From the fast-rising Midlands duo that sit somewhere in-between The Sleaford Mods, Idles or even the soulful tones of Rag 'n' Bone man, this is a debut album that provides coherent, emotional and sometimes intimate moments that will give the listener goosebumps and the temptation play on repeat until the sun goes down.
Heartfelt subject matter provided by Joe Hicklin with beats and samples provided by Callum Maloney are the basic ingredients that make this 15-track album many peoples favourite release of 2024 and one that complements their live shows that many have been fortunate to witness in the buildup to this release.
Switching between spoken word, angry outbursts of shouting and soulful vocals, backed by some smooth bass lines and big pounding beats the journey the listener travels through during this album is an emotional one that's at times light-hearted yet its thought-provoking approach makes it an enjoyable listen. Serious subject matter is covered here such as mental health and being stuck in a job you may hate and cannot escape from. Butchers Bin is about class awareness, lives being trivialised like pieces of meat in a shop window. Shithouse boasts one of the best opening couple of lines any song could ask for and is brutal in its delivery. Dig is an anthem to end the album that is joyous, contains various degrees of tension and by the time this is over one realises that it sits perfectly with every other album you may have purchased over the past decade.

Review: Exciting horizons from the UK's Deadletter, who debut their first album Hysterical Strength via SO Recordings. The band formed in the wake of the suicide of a friend and soon took after the likes of Joy Division, Talking Heads and Wire to produce a contemporary take on their distinctly British post-punk sound. With lyrical themes touching on noir fiction, hope in ostensible hopelessness, and finding beauty in the quagmire of pain that defines much of the collective now, Deadletter is a purloined epistle to the UK, one that will ultimately be returned to the sextet sender, but not before a thorough touring spate and album release fallout.

Review: Whether you were a 1990s teen riddled with angst looking for release, or just coming to Placebo for the first time now (where have you been?), Never Let Me Go is all the proof you need that the sound of half-broken and dysfunctional youth can translate into adult sounds. On this latest, Brian Molko and co are neither trapped in perennial adolescence desperately looking to be put out of their misery, nor hellbent on attempting to reinvent themselves.

In short, we might have already known to take this troupe very seriously, but it never does any harm to reemphasise the point, with tracks like 'Try Better Next Time' encapsulating the reasons why their early work resonated so much, and outings such as 'Chemtrails' and 'Went Missing' making it clear that, within their scope, there are still plenty of new ideas happening.

Review: Public Service Broadcasting's The Last Flight continues their signature blend of historical storytelling with electronic and post-rock soundscapes. The album explores the final chapter of humanity's quest for aviation and space exploration, layering archival audio with atmospheric instrumentals while leaning on the real-life events of the last ever flight by Amelia Earhart in 1937. She had already navigated over 20,000 miles and 5 continents on her round-the-world trip but then vanished without a trace and her whereabouts remain a mystery. Tracks are emotionally charged and cinematic in a record that feels both nostalgic and forward-looking. The band's use of vintage recordings and synth-driven melodies beautifully captures the spirit of human achievement.

Review: Some 15 years on from the release of their debut recordings, Public Service Broadcasting hit album number five, The Last Flight, a lightly conceptual affair inspired by the story of pioneering female navigator Amelia Earhart's ill-fated 1937 attempt to become the first woman to circumnavigate the globe by plane. It cannily follows the narrative of Earhart's final flight, moving from the heart-aching orchestral swell of 'I Was Always Dreaming' to the poignant, sample-splattered ambient heartbreak of 'Howland' (a reference to the spot in the Pacific where her plane reportedly went down), via jangly indie-rock ('Towards The Dawn'), jaunty mid-60s beat-pop joy ('The Fun Of It'), folksy laments ('The South Atlantic') and grandiose indie-pop ('Electra').

Review: Public Service Broadcasting's fifth studio album, The Last Flight, four years on from their 2021 concept album, Bright Magic, taking inspiration from the life and final voyage of pioneering aviator Amelia Earhart. Frontman J. Willgoose Esq. explained the choice of Earhart's story, noting a desire to highlight a female-focused narrative amid an archive dominated by male figures. He was initially drawn to Earhart's final flight but became increasingly fascinated by her extraordinary achievements and dignified philosophy. The album's first single, 'Electra,' shows what to expect - a pulsating, funk-inspired track capturing the vibrancy and excitement of Earhart's Lockheed Model 10-E Electra aircraft. With interlocking percussive melodies and driving electronics, 'Electra' embodies the same determination and force as Earhart's daring spirit. The Last Flight promises a rich, life-affirming exploration of adventure, speed, and freedom, featuring guest appearances by Carl Broemel (My Morning Jacket) on pedal steel and Berlin voices Andreya Casablanca and EERA, both of whom contributed to Bright Magic.

Review: You'd have to be some kind of human not to have a soft spot for Seasick Steve. Having graced us with a relentless list of amazing albums, and amazing album titles - Dog House Music, I Started Out With Nothin', You Can't Teach An Old Dog New Tricks, Keepin' The Horse Between Me and the Ground - his legacy is well and truly cast in cement. As is his reputation as a straight talking, blues peddling, guitar modifying doyen of drawly balladry and raucous barroom anthems. A Trip a Stumble a Fall Down on Your Knees is classic Steve, and yet it's also a move on from recent outings such as Blues In Mono, a collection of largely solo, acoustic, stripped back offerings. Here then we're fully plugged in and rolling deep with an entourage, the result being a record that feels as humid and atmospheric as it does late night and gruff. The quest to find America again seems to be over for now then.