There has been a great deal of talk about quiet being the new loud this year. Homegrown talents such as Travis and Turin Brakes, along with some of their lesser-known contemporaries have pioneered a return to more acoustic based, reflective sound and catapulted it into the mainstream. Across the Atlantic however such quietness has been gently plugging away for some time. City Slang records and its diverse roster of eclectic artists have always enjoyed cult status on these shores, often more so than in their native land.
One such band, formed by four old school friends from Chapel Hill, North Carolina, is The Kingsbury Manx. This second album arriving almost a year after their eponymous debut once again drifts into view with sun kissed melodies and delicate, soft harmonies. The perfect listening material for a late, late night or mournful Sunday morning their songs meander gently along with a languid, fragile sensibility that soothes and caresses. That's not to say that they simply pass you by, in fact they go in one ear and swirl around your head before exiting from the other, leaving behind a very relaxed state of mind.
Reference points have ranged form Syd Barrett era Floyd to the Velvet Underground and they're not far wrong, yet The Kingsbury Manx favour a studied elegance over any harsh, jarring sounds. It's as though this sound was conceived with the help of a glorious helping of California sunshine and a dash of glowing psychedelia.
Unlike the current wave of British strummers it's doubtful that they will ever outgrow their cult status, an unfortunate curse for so many. However they can rest assured that theirs is a cult well worth becoming a member of. Let the brainwashing begin.
