Metronomy - Love Letters

Prior to 2011, the idea of anyone creating anything worthwhile inspired by/named after Torquay, my hometown, seemed pretty laughable (I mean, sure, Agatha Christie's works and Fawlty Towers are both fantastic but it's been a while, guys). It may look pretty on a postcard but for the past ten years now it's been in rapid decline to the teenage pregnancy capital of the country (maybe Europe?), deserted high streets (the loss of HMV, Burger King and Blockbusters to discount stores and charity shops) and soaring drug use. So it took something quite special to make me feel wistful and nostalgic about it whilst at university, and The English Riviera was just that. It seems to have had a similar effect on many others, as the backlash against Love Letters - their fourth album now - seems to suggest.

I suppose there's a large leap for listeners to follow merely on an aesthetic level; back in 2011 they were dicking around on Torquay pier and licking tarmac, and now they're on smoky, moody space missions. Gone are the fond little nods to seaside summers and interludes of seagulls and accordions, but in their place is something just as fascinating.

There's a constant humming throughout much of Love Letters, which one would suppose could contribute to its criticisms. 'The Upsetter' serves as the record's confessional, a pretty straightforward and morose bit of guitarwork and self-pitying; "I've got it bad/ and now this heart beats black", frontman Joe Mount sighs in a breaking voice, and it's a world away - literally, I suppose, given the video - from its successor 'I'm Aquarius'. Using starsigns to explain away a failed relationship is never a sensible thing and you can hear that in Mount's monotone, which gives the song a bitter aftertaste. It's not immediately obvious, though; the refrain of "shoop-doop-doop-ah" and tinkling, new-age elements in the background give the track an allure that make its darkness enchanting (in the same sense that Grimes hypnotised just about everyone with Oblivion). Darkness is definitely the aim of 'Monstrous', a stalkery little tale of wanting this object of his affections to be happy, set to an eerie little piece you might find soundtracking a medieval-horror video game from the nineties.

The introduction to our title track only seems to heap on the misery (and the selfish, iPod shuffler in me wants it to be separate for moments of melodrama that need soundtracking), but 'Love Letters' suddenly unleashes the sixties and a delirious honky tonk melody. The fallout of Monstrous makes me feel a little uneasy about how repetitive and upbeat the lyrics are here, but that might just be too cynical; the trumpet solo towards the end and continued, cheery cries of the title by an indeterminable number of girls make it at least somewhat uplifting. Those cries are replaced by the repeated declined offer (never in a) 'Month of Sundays'.

Much of the album was recorded in Paris and what could be more Parisian than the terrific Daft Punk-indebted 'Boy Racers', or the twee 'Reservoir', a curious little radar-blip melody that's merely missing a shrug and a moustache? It's a great accompaniment to the more jealous, pouting aspects of the album's tailing points: on 'Call Me' it's not so subtle ("but you belong to me") but the music is, whereas on 'The Most Immaculate Haircut' we're taken down a psychedelic, cricket-infested route of scowling at this other bloke she's now with. The one problem I'd have with this album is that it ends on a bit of a shrug: 'Never Wanted' is the sort of soft nonsense you'd say "stands out" from a new Strokes record (on account of the rest of it being shite).

The image shift is going to take a little readjusting but, just as The English Riviera grew more and more wonderful with each new listen, Love Letters has grown these past six months or so. It's certainly the winter to 2011's summer album, and the variety of, at times clashing, sounds and vibes going on here make reading these particular love letters feel like you're reading them from different authors rather than falling in love with just the one. For me, that just makes this all the more fascinating. After all, who wants to read a fine and dandy correspondence anyway?

Rating: 8/10
Highlights: I'm Aquarius; Call Me; Love Letters; The Most Immaculate Haircut; Reservoir
Avoid: n/a

Artwork Watch: I'm generally not a fan of things designed to look like they've already been faded and worn by age like vinyl covers, but I like everything about this.
Up next: Azealia Banks