Bill Ryder-Jones isn’t in it for the money, but then again a few listens to some of his songs will tell you that; having estranged himself from The Coral, a band he co-founded at 13 and who continued being bankable if not exactly rich, he’s clearly a man for whom the easy choices are someone else’s problem.
Yawn is a record which will both cement his reputation as one of the country’s finest translators of every day angst into a sweetness few seem to be able to reach; sometimes bathed in the watery sunshine of perspective, sometimes in feedback, it’s paced for someone gradually overturning the stones of their life and finding relief and remorse.
Almost by accident the singer’s capability to throw out hits takes fleeting stage on And Then There’s You, whilst the heavy lidded opener There’s Something On Your Mind anchors a mood that makes the real world feel a million miles away. Yawn has so much going on, or so little. It’s creator doesn’t make much money, but he makes records that never let go of their soul.
You can read a full review here.