Shed Seven - A Matter of Time

Shed Seven returned last week to release their sixth studio album via Cooking Vinyl Records. Recorded at Space Mountain in Spain with the iconic Youth producing once again. The album went in at number one/, a fine way to kick off their 30th year as a band together. Let’s see why.

Buy the album here.

*all images courtesy of Cooking Vinyl Records.

Six years ago, they released ‘Instant Pleasures’, sixteen years after the unfairly overlooked ‘Truth Be Told’ in 2001. The origins of ‘Instant Pleasures’ began by chance when frontman Rick Witter overheard Paul Banks playing a riff in a soundcheck. While ‘Room In My House’, ‘Better Days’, and' Butterfly on a Wheel’ were memorable moments, there was an air of constraint looming over the album, consistent though it is.

Fast forward six years, and the Sheds faced the exit of fan-favourite drummer Alan Leach and keyboardist Joe Johnson; the band was at a crossroads. With Tim Wills (keyboards and guitar) and Rob Maxfield (drums) coming in, the band decided to continue. The fresh impetus spreads through the band as they rediscover a youthful vibrancy on ‘Let’s Go’ and ‘Talk of the Town’. The former stomps to early U2 and The Ramones, with their punk fire burning bright once again. On ‘Talk of the Town’, the album explodes into life. The vivid haze of ‘A Maximum High’s youthful indulgence roars to the surface via Peter Buck and John Squire guitars. As Witter decrees, “Bring back the romance to these streets”, change (although less hopeful) feels as tangible now as it did in ‘96. As we move into election year, this instant classic could and should act as a clarion call for change.

The compositions and Witter’s ‘Instant Pleasures’ melodies carried an aching beauty. On ‘AMOT’, a sense of escape and yearning to be elsewhere caused by COVID’s entrapment take hold. Although stylistically close to ‘Instant Pleasures’ at times, spiritually, the energy and sense of destiny on ‘Change Giver’ and ‘A Maximum High’ ooze through this album.

‘Kissing Kalifornia’ and ‘Let’s Go Dancing’ are perfect bridges from ‘Instant Pleasures’ to now. Banks’ playing on ‘Kissing Kalifornia’ again takes Buck’s quaint guitar lines to the precipice of ‘Mersey Paradise' era Squire. It joyously twists and turns from urgency to an aching forlornness that ‘Enemies and Friends’ was beset with. Meanwhile, ‘Let’s Go Dancing’ possesses the cinematic beauty of ‘It’s Easy’ or ‘Invincible’ with its soaring orchestration.

On ‘Starlings’ and ‘Thowaways’, however, they lean into their elder statesmen status. ‘Starlings’ delicately handles the concept of a life partner dying and the widow wanting to commit suicide to join them. Witter and Banks combine here with such a deft power that it is chilling at points. Banks’ pianos begin with such hope and end in harrowing circumstances. Witter’s vocals and lyrics, gentle and melodic throughout, soar and tumble with the grace of the subject. The references to the “picturedrome” and night buses evoke romantic nostalgia that, even the youngest of lovers can emphathise with. Witter exquisitely frays the seams of this happiness and moves into grief and bitterness of the loneliness:

“For you to take off would be daylight robbery

They always said we’d become real darlings”

‘Throwaways’, featuring The Libertines singer-songwriter Pete Doherty, explores a life of being an outsider. The unlikely pair steal the show on this fine album. All the years of being written off undervalued and undermined become anathema. For fans, it becomes worth it. This is a moment of brilliance that we can skip across Albion, ramming down the throats of whoever doubted them.

Thirty years deep, Shed Seven have hit songwriting heights most never thought they’d hit again. It’s too early to say if this topples ‘A Maximum High’ from their best album slot, but it's banging on the door for a cuppa with serious intent.