When Manchester psych-pop collective Whyte Horses released Empty words in March 2018, they faced the tricky task of following up a critically adored debut. Their first record had established their reputation for crafting beautifully vintage sonic collages, but this sophomore effort was the moment they truly expanded their musical universe. Instead of settling into a predictable indie niche, project mastermind Dom Thomas used the album to push the group's signature technicolour nostalgia into much bolder, more cinematic territory, cementing them as one of the UK's most interesting underground acts.

The album plays out like a gorgeously curated mixtape from a dream world, blending a dizzying array of styles into a seamless, sun-drenched vibe. It fuses classic sixties lounge pop, hazy dream pop, and fuzzed-out psych rock with an elegant touch of French ye-ye instrumentation. The production intentionally maximises its antiquated textures, using lush, shimmering string arrangements and echoing vocal harmonies to make everything sound both entirely vintage and innovatively fresh. It feels incredibly escapist and comforting - a brightly textured audio experience that is simply brimming with whimsical character.

The tracklist moves effortlessly through this kaleidoscopic musical landscape, anchoring its artsy interludes with brilliant, hook-filled collaborations. You get the glorious, driving euphoria of Counting down the years and the breezy charm of Never took the time, but the true masterstroke is the spectacular appearance of La Roux on The best of it, which injects a perfect dose of sophisticated indie pop energy. Because it acts like a multi-layered pop opera full of hidden audio details, the album holds an astonishing amount of replay value, making it a total joy to revisit whenever you want to step out of the everyday grind.