Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Ian Grimble and Richard Matthews of Communion Music at 2KHz, Crouch End, London
The lads in Manchester group Everything Everything open the door to a landscape that's slightly bonkers. We get lured into their scenes with a postcard spread of color and proper sonic delight and then it all changes. It gets bent and slightly cockeyed. It all gets morphed into a version of those toasty hues, but the context takes us somewhere else, somewhere that we cannot recognize as a place that we've ever been before. It's partially the way that Jonathan Higgs sings, but it's just as much the structures and the lyrical elements to it all that keep your attention rapt through all of their songs. They get you dizzy with their adventurous takes on songwriting and the delivery of it, giving us these caramelized elements of pure dreams and unfiltered sentiments. They are versions of the eyetooth, or the eye teeth. These songs are a kind of elixir for those who just can't help the urge to want to leap off the roof of the house into a cold pool at the end of every night, right before bed. These are songs that don't speed anywhere, but instead coil themselves around your ankle and move up slowly to the calf, then the thigh, then over the waist and on to the stomach and neck, before running like fingers of yolk through your hair. They come alive more with every second that you listen, allowing themselves to get more vulnerable and revealing.