Pythons

It's got an edge, moreso than Astro Coast, and that element of creeping unease makes Pythons a fuller, more mature and honest album than its precursor. 

Surfer Blood as we knew them are dead - the new incarnation sound like they're headed for big things. Pythons could be their watershed.

On ‘Pythons’, the Floridians have ditched the surf rock of 2010 debut ‘Astro Coast’ and, instead, plundered college rock for all it’s worth.

Pythons seem to feel pretty conflicted about itself: hooky, Weezer-ish guitar pop offset by desperate, discomfiting lyrics, fleeting hopes of reconciliation quickly dashed by heavy-hearted resignation.

The tunes are there, they’re tsunami big and surfer cool – the lyrics are there, bold, bleak and biting – but there’s been an oversight when it comes to stamping on the pedals, letting rip and allowing Surfer Blood to tear this material a new hole.

The hooks are still here, but that level of hyper-attentive musicianship is absent on this decidedly punchier, glossier effort.

What's disappointing is that now, with two dozen recorded tracks to their credit, Surfer Blood haven't shown much desire to move beyond their comfort zone.

Despite their songs’ individual strengths, it is clear Surfer Blood are still finding their way on Pythons. Some of the songs are indistinguishable on first exposure, and the band doesn’t swerve all that much in their lanes to push any boundaries.

The main issue with this album is that it is not terrible and it is not brilliant. It is simply there. It’s hard to feel anything other than nonchalance towards ‘Pythons’.

Between Pitts' unrelieved misery and the tepid music, Pythons makes a bitter, unsatisfying brew. Imbibe at your own risk.