The Brakes - Touchdown (20th April, Fatcat Records)

Pray tell, why are Brakes still not widely accepted as one of the best bands around today? I mean nobody can dispute the wealth of groundwork these guys have put in since their debut in 2004 in Brakes alone. But include their previous musical excursions such as lead singer/guitarist Eamon Hamilton's contributions to British Sea Power and brother-team Alex and Thomas White's Electric Soft Parade, you realise they have long been posted at the metaphorical front lines of British music. Brandishing instruments in the dirty trenches and foxholes that are the mid-sized venues and festivals of the country, they fire salvos of pop-rock nirvana at the (widely) unsuspecting masses, in both recorded and live form. resupplied by a hardcore of fans evidenced at their live shows and a seemingly underwhelming level of backing from the media, Brakes have gladly soldiered on - thank god.

I touted Brakes' first outing 'Give Blood' as 2005's best album like an excitable loud mouthed child fresh off a dream holiday from Disney Land Florida. Needless to say, to that opine I stuck my proverbial guns. Though I didn't view their 2006 effort 'Beatific Visions' as bettering their nigh-on perfect debut, it certainly demonstrated a plateau of brilliance in songwriting. But in truth I'll be worried about the world (that or everyones ability to hear) if 'Touchdown' doesn't besiege a the hearts and minds of at least a reasonable number of people who proclaim themselves lovers of music.

A gleeful simplicity emanates in true Brakes form with charmers like 'Eternal Return' bouncing along with a country bass line and walking drums. Briefly touching upon their space theme, our man pleads "don't take me to space (man), I've had a taste of true love...I don't care if this worlds corrupted, I don't want to be abducted..." on 'Don't Take Me To Space (Man)', at just two tracks in has you wondering why guitars can't always sound so grizzled and meaty.

Though far from the ballsy briefness of 'Cheney' and 'Pick up the Phone' (10 and 30 seconds long respectively) from Give Blood, the truly maniacal still erupts to the forefront propelled by Eamon's controlled yelping in gems like 'Red Rag'. Don't think for one second he doesn't exploit his ability to write a palpably emotional love song and push his voice to match, though.

Once again and with an effortlessness they could copyright Brakes have struck back at boredom with another short (35 minute) but perfectly formed album. The soundtrack to a summer, precursor to a night of merriment, or meaty guitar-sound fix like methadone to a smackhead, Touchdown will satisfy the aurally fixated. Procure this belter and come watch them April 29th at Bodega Social in Nottingham.

5/5