The bard of Underworld has settled as a bona fide singer-songwriter hazing over the microphone to a plume of guitars and reverb.
The band’s development into finely poised film soundtrackers (bits break off from ‘Breaking And Entering’) makes Hyde’s languidly plausible turn as a pessimistic daydreamer, long forgetting the image-consciousness of ‘Underneath The Radar’ but keeping in with certain back cataloguing.
The common room stanzas and games of fridge magnet rearrangement (proud sea shanty ‘The Boy With The Jigsaw Puzzle Fingers’), grow over folk-plugged electronica and post surf-pop shoegaze.
Those wanting ‘Born Slippy’ rants and ‘Cowgirl’ cackle won’t give him the time of day, but Hyde suits the role of rocking chair riddler.
Words: Matt Oliver