‘Weird Drift’ has a restrained and varied sense of emotional drama, but also a deeper sense of happiness, or at least the sense of becoming happy that was only hinted at on the first record. This can be heard in the breathy vocal harmonies of ballad ‘Rain’, in the building arpeggios, open guitar chords and skittering, trappish hi-hats of ‘Boxes’ or ‘Lumber’s industrial drum tattoo, it's sad chords set against Matthieu's anxious, delay-smothered vocals. The album switches mood with the nostalgic, dewy Rhodes and recorder of ‘Liverpool‘, acting as a brief impressionistic pallet cleanser before the grinning bounce of ‘Sultana’, which has the kind of melody (and keyboard solo!) not heard from Mike since his collaboration ‘Mike and Rich’ with Richard ‘Aphex Twin’ James.

‘Triumph’ burns slowly over shimmering arpeggios and sustained bass notes, Vezelay’s words softly spelling out scenarios in delicate harmonies. ‘Florence’ rolls out gentle piano chords and sighing synths while a drum beat smashes out behind them; the dramatic tension between these elements framing Vezelay’s meandering falsetto, playing out to their exhilarating strengths.

‘Shoe Soul‘ wraps old school Detroit techno chords and a wonky fretless bassline around Vezelay's swooning voice to woozy, almost sea-sick effect, and the joyful, frayed sleaze of ‘Foghorn‘ could be taken from an episode of The Sweeney, while ‘Amniotic‘ sounds like galloping trap, treated to a relaxing spa. The album ends of the rather epic note of ‘Empires’, a quietly confident pop song that builds up slowly over a deep piano bassline and pulsing kicks, filling the space between them with feather-light rolling notes slowly building to an epic crescendo of drums, vocals and strings. Drift deeply and enjoy.