The ‘Green Sea’ loosely sketched here by these London/Brighton pop-kids is closer to a man-made lake: cultivated, non-tumultuous and pleasant. The occasional flecks of gentle tape distortion (it could be accidentally generated, but I’d bet against it) suggest hidden depths made unattainable and irretrievable through the misfortunes of recording on the cheap – how cheap exactly would be my question. This lo-fi sleight-of-hand demonstrates that the band believe they have something to hide: the listener is required to believe it’s worth seeking.
B-side ‘Born’ stands unshakily in C86 territory, where the humdrum is the exciting, and the exciting never happens. Melodically and rhythmically it offers exactly enough to fit in at the type of sparsely attended indie-disco that just about still exists if you know precisely in which derelict working men’s club to look, but lacks the graceful balance between solipsism and congregatory celebration that marks out the most venerated of that ilk.