The latest from pan-Anglian shoegaze collective The Death Of Pop is a hazy slice of blurry-eyed dream-pop of the highest order. Angus James’ somnambulant guitar weaves in and out of one of the funkiest basslines this side of Thundercat’s new album, settling into a punchy but sublime rhythm that forces thoughts of another month in lockdown to the far reaches of the mind, at least for the track’s two minutes and forty nine seconds. 

As Oliver James reflects on a relationship he’s not sure if he should have ended or not, with a vocal delivery straight out of the box postmarked ‘UK Indie:1982’, the pre-chorus lifts us into the gloriously reverb-drenched world of The Death Of Pop, a world of swirling keys, saturated guitar, and half-lamented choices. 

While we sit around waiting to be told that everything is going to be OK here in the real world, the idea that mistakes can be rectified, and something ‘Once Good’ can be so again, is a sentiment that we wholeheartedly appreciate. If something was needed to take the edge off yet another nameless and faceless morning in lockdown, this is it. 

Nine silver-lined clouds out of ten.

Out Now.

Words: Craig Gray @craggen_graggen