The Holy Orders

Matt Edible & The Obtuse Angles - Stairgazing

There appears to be two strands of rock n roll on the charge at the moment. There is the youthful vibrancy of The Blinders, Cabbage and Avalanche Party to name but a few. Then, there are those old school outliers, like Wolf Alice, taking risks and forging new paths. Hull's Matt Edible falls into that latter category.

Opening with 'Jumping Houses' is proof of this. It's a national anthem for the debauched. Amid this wayward tale of heartache and intoxication, emerges the most intimate of choruses. It has that simplicity and raw beauty of William Blake at his best. Such is the power of 'Jumping Houses', the relief of the Christmas pop song 'Advent Beard' will come as welcome light relief.

To say 'Stairgazing' is a break up album would be to diminish this albums quality. There is too much to marvel at. On 'Don't Stay', takes Richard Hawley's grief inspired 'Standing At The Sky's Edge' album and funnels it towards the genius Matt Johnson's latter day The The.

'NightClubbing', an unruly anthem has a great universal appeal with . It's Oasis 'Whatever' inspired strings and the lyrical derision of the mundane have the hallmarks of the indie greats plus, signing off with the line 'When the funky house comes on / You know its time to go' is sure fire genius.

The willingness to explore is inescapable on this record. The classical filmic style on 'The Healing', is perhaps its finest example of throwing everything into the mix. It's Edible and Joe Bennett's guitar playing which really shines. At every turn, there is a guitar part (or 4) pushing and probing new possibilities.

We implore you to listen to this, then again, then listen whilst walking around your home town at 4am armed with a hip flask. It wont grow on you, it will envelop you into a world of possibility and tragedy.

Image Source: Darren Rogers @ Ocular_Art

Matt Edible & The Obtuse Angles - Jumping Houses

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Hull’s cult hero Matt Edible is back, and yet again, provides challenging pop music for the alternative community.

This ballad, meanders from psychedelic synths to languid vocals like a glorious drunk walk home in the wee hours. Edible’s vocals have always had a touch of James Dean Bradfield about them but, here, his caution to the wind attitude witnesses a departure from that traditional delivery.

Despite the ethereal production and adventurous guitars, Edible still embeds great melody and pop sensibilities into this short epic. It appears nigh on impossible for experimental yet poppy efforts like this to garner recognition nowadays, but, this should only fuel your love it more. Cherish it like the best mate your parents have never been sure of.