London Grammar - If You Wait

In all of 2013's emerging British talents there's been at least a finite element of trip-hop lurking about, and it's taken until September for the year's most prominent example of to appear. But when you see people calling them a mellowed-out version of the xx (how mellow is it even possible to go, damnit?) there's the concern that this might just be that record of the year that everyone won't shut up about but is just inescapably boring (for 2012's, see Alt-J).

The Nottingham trio of Hannah Reid, Dan Rothman and Dot Major seem to have arisen out of nowhere (besides a feature on Disclosure's album earlier this year that I believe is now a single) and only missed out on a chart-topping debut thanks to those pesky Arctic Monkeys (who would probably pip Adele to the post at this stage in their careers), so just what exactly is all the fuss about?

It's immediately clear that the drawing attraction here is Hannah Reid's warbly voice, sitting somewhere on the scale between Alison Moyet and Annie Lennox but, at times, it just sounds like a foghorn. It doesn't help when the music is so subdued and backseat as that of opener 'Hey Now', a slow guitar groove that's sleek and quite sophisticated, but nothing the UK minimalist dub scene hasn't done 300 times before these past five years. Stronger trip-hop influences make themselves heard on 'Stay Awake', a track that can quite easily be traced back to Portishead's Dummy album - but in a way that's a fatal comparison, because this just struggles to match that in every respect. More often than not, the album consists of Reid drowning everything else out, but on those moments where she tries to hold back - such as the vaguely Caribbean ringing of 'Shyer' or the sombre and undeniably gorgeous romantics of 'Wasting My Young Years' - the effect can be beguiling.

Much of If You Wait is orchestrated more carefully and intrinsically than its genre would suggest: at times, the group sound more derivative of Florence + the Machine than anything else, such as on the strings-bothering, echoey 'Sights'. But when Reid can tack onto a fine vocal performance - see: 'Strong' - the results are fantastic, even if they owe more than a little to the melody of Coldplay's Trouble. An actual cover comes next - Kavinsky's Nightcall, which to the rest of us is known as the second best cut of 2010's Drive soundtrack - and it's a striking piano rendition of it given extra-terrestrial sound effects for added mystique, but the fleeting reminder of the original could serve to be an unfortunate reminder of music with actual punch.

From this brief series of actual beauty we're thrust back into the xx b-sides territory: 'Metal & Dust', also the name of their production studio (the album itself is helmed by The Freelance Hellraiser a.k.a. Roy Kerr, responsible for last decade's excellent mashup A Stroke of Genius, and mixer Tim Bran), is a rather Sandesque construction that - aside from some wonderful vocal trickery - passes by with a whimper of melodrama. A live 'Interlude' then sets up 'Flickers', a repetitive bit of tedium, before a title track with far more appeal locks up the doors.

I can see, in a way, why If You Wait was left until this time of year to release: it's a very autumnal record that begs to be listened to after a battle with the wind and rain, and a cup of soup. The problem is that if, indeed, you do wait, you'll be left wanting in terms of an escape. The trio are pleasant enough, but there's nothing novel or bewitching about them that makes this album a delight. Instead, London Grammar have concocted a safe, but certainly alluring, debut that needs to let go a bit - but I'm sure the 5-albums-a-year music 'fan's will lap this up as groundbreaking and deep.

Rating: 6.5/10
Highlights: Strong; Wasting my Young Years; Nightcall; If You Wait
Avoid: Hey Now; Interlude; Flickers

Artwork Watch: Ah good, I see the finalists for the 2013 'Worst Hair Disaster' championships have arrived. (They eventually lost to Lorde).
For fans of: Everything being done for Radio 1's Live Lounge. The spiritual home of the dullard.
Up next: James Arthur