Tip! *250 copies limited edition* When I was a kid I always daydreamed about scale. What if the cracks in the path were river valleys? What if the stains on the skirting board were a mural? What if the dust under my bed contained multitudes? A Happy Return manage the same disorientating imaginary shifts in point of view on this second record. Something tells me we are definitely at home here, on an epic journey around a back bedroom, passing practice amps like blocks of flats and microphone stands like mobile masts. Sometimes the music operates at the usual spillage fete scale. There are minute-and-a-half-long miniatures that seem to hold more unhurried melodic invention that their scant running time can possibly contain. And sometimes when that melody disappears we are pitched right into the warp and weft of the carpet. If you need clues add to what the record actually sounds like I guess the first two Deux Filles records or Plinth’s Winter Songs might get you close. But when you’re trying to hold infinity in the palm of your hand who cares?
