REVIEW: Lord Of The Rings – Two Towers


Rating: 5 out of 5.

There’s no more evocative way to experience The Lord of the Rings than through the Royal Albert Hall’s Film in Concert series.


There is a rare sense of occasion to The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers in Concert, where film and live performance meet with real care and precision. Presented at the remarkable Royal Albert Hall as part of its Films in Concert series, the second chapter of The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers is screened in full while Howard Shore’s score is performed live. The result is an experience that feels both familiar and newly vivid.

At the centre of the production is the London Philharmonic Orchestra, the same ensemble that recorded the original soundtrack. Their performance carries both technical assurance and emotional clarity, moving seamlessly between the darker, more foreboding tones of Mordor and the quieter, more reflective passages that shape the film’s emotional core. Under the direction of Ludwig Wicki, the orchestra remains tightly in sync with the on-screen action, maintaining a natural flow that never feels rigid or over-rehearsed.

The addition of the London Philharmonic Choir and Trinity Boys Choir brings depth and texture to the performance. Their voices are carefully balanced, entering at just the right moments to heighten tension or add a sense of stillness. The choral elements enrich the storytelling without drawing focus away from it, reinforcing the scale and emotional weight of the narrative.

Vocal soloist Grace Davidson offers some of the most striking moments of the evening. Her voice is clear and controlled, adding a delicate and almost otherworldly quality that complements the score beautifully. These moments feel thoughtfully placed, enhancing the atmosphere without overwhelming it.

The audience response reflects the significance of the event. As part of the Lord of the Rings weekender celebrating the 25th anniversary of the trilogy, there is a strong sense of shared appreciation in the room. Applause at each interval is warm and sustained, recognising both the scale of the performance and the skill behind it. This connection between performers and audience adds another layer to an already immersive experience.

What makes this format so effective is the way it draws attention back to the score itself. Hearing the music performed live alongside the film highlights its complexity and its role in shaping the story. Familiar scenes gain renewed emotional depth, while quieter moments are given space to resonate more fully.

There’s no better or more evocative way to reexperience one of cinema’s most beloved epics than at a Royal Albert Hall Film in Concert.

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers in Concert plays at the Royal Albert Hall as part of the Films in Concert series and Lord of the Rings Weekender.

REVIEW: Mayday


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Mayday is a collective stand against the far right and a call for hope and solidarity.


Mayday is an international distress signal used in life-threatening emergencies, while May Day, the first day of May, carries another history: a festival of summer, a day of labour, and a day of protest. Those meanings meet powerfully in Mayday, the rapid response theatre project co-curated and directed by Cora Bissett and Hannah Lavery, and commissioned by the National Theatre of Scotland: an emergency call against the far right, but also a declaration of hope, solidarity, collective movement, and belief in the power of the people.

The one-night-only event did not simply gather anti-far-right performances together. It built a chorus. From the opening force of ‘Nazi Boys’ by Declan Welsh, the night moved through song, testimony, satire, dance, poetry, film, and memory, with each piece speaking to a different wound in the present political climate. ‘Stonewall’, performed by Loud and Proud Choir, carried the sound of queer resistance into the room, while a short documentary about Gina, the Gaza Infant Nutrition Alliance, extended the evening’s politics beyond Scotland.

That sense of resistance was sharpened by Women Against the Far Right, whose dance piece responded to the weaponisation of women’s rights, refusing the far right’s attempt to use feminist language against vulnerable communities. In Becoming Tia, Glaswegian-Arab trans storyteller Tia Boyd brought stand-up into this same terrain, turning personal experience into political satire. The Correct Version, meanwhile, used satire to answer Nigel Farage’s not-so-shocking-by-his-standards call for Welsh museums to be told what to show and teach, exposing the absurdity and danger of controlling culture through nationalist grievance.

The evening also made space for grief, masculinity, memory, and belonging. Harvest, a poem about toxic masculinity in British culture, sat alongside Being Navid, in which Sanjeev Kohli reflected on his role as shopkeeper Navid Harrid in the BBC sitcom Still Game, and on what that role has meant for representing communities in Scotland. These moments mattered because they showed the fight against the far right done by the creation of spaces, the force of collective power, and the stories that allow a community to see itself.

As the night continued, the atmosphere became increasingly collective. ‘It’s Not a Wean’s Choice’, a song from the musical Glasgow Girls, performed with Mothers Against Genocide, responded to the hostile far-right climate in UK politics. ‘Dala’, a song remembering Sheku Bayoh, who died after being restrained by police in Kirkcaldy, brought another register of mourning and anger into the room. 

What emerged from the curation was a constellation of Scottish talent, and a portrait of the diversity that nourishes their perspectives. These voices came from women, from the LGBTQIA+ community, from generations of immigrants, and from people whose lives carry the complexity of belonging to a society. Mayday created a space for these perspectives to meet, speak, and respond to one another. It showed the necessity of understanding rather than hatred, of accepting difference rather than producing division. The power of the night lay in the way these voices stood beside one another. Together, they became the collective voice we urgently need to hear.

Of course, one might sometimes wonder what one night can do to change society. It is easy to become cynical about the role art can play, especially in a political climate so often distorted by far-right noise, online hostility, and bot-fed outrage. Yet there is something powerful in simply being reminded that you are not alone. Without that reminder, it becomes much easier to feel discouraged, isolated, and overwhelmed by the climate that the far right has helped to create.


As it happened, Mayday took place only six days before the election in Holyrood, at a moment when Scotland was being asked to decide its future. By the time the night ended with Patti Smith’s ‘People Have the Power’, performed with rewritten lyrics responding to our dark political moment, the event had become more than an anti-far-right statement. It becomes a promise: that community, solidarity, progress, and hope remain possible because people are still willing to stand together

REVIEW: Maria Arnal and Queralt Lahoz: Futuristic Sounds and Flamenco Beats


Rating: 4 out of 5.

got the whole room dancing 


La Linea is the London Latin Music festival showcasing the best of Latin Music and its most exciting established and up and coming musicians across different venues in London. Performing at the Jazz Café were Maria Arnal and Queralt Lahoz, two Catalonian artists who bought completely different sounds to an unusual headliner pairing.

Maria Arnal’s performance was all clean-lined presentation and blurred sounds. Her stage presence was understated but powerful, with the intensity of her music broken up by the low-key charm of her stage manner. Her music is a mixture of avant-pop, electronics and traditional polyphonic music, where the influence of traditional folk music is melded and forged into a futuristic, silver sound. 

Arnal has recently released a new album, Ama, with the performance featuring many of her new songs. Her extraordinary voice ducks and weaves around the synthesized backing voices. During the concert Arnal tells the audience of one of the main influences of the album, the words of Sappho, the Grecian lyric poet: ‘what you have left to say will remain to be cried.’ She tells the audience the album is about tears – of joy, grief, release, regret. 

Her strength as an artist is grounding the experimentation of her sound with a voice that stays true and resonant with human emotion, soaring above the complexities of interweaving sounds. A highlight was ‘Que me Quiten’, where the melody starts accompanied by a light quavering sound, to slowly build in depth and layers until it reaches a climax to abruptly cut off, leaving the crowd breathless. ‘Tú que vienes a rondarme’, one of Arnal’s most well-loved songs, was received with delight, with its whirling poeticism and hypnotic simplicity. 

Queralt Lahoz’s energy created a complete change, bursting onto the stage with a toss of her long hair. Her music merges the traditional influences of flamenco and bolero with hip-hop, pop and dancehall, and her performance got the whole room dancing (potentially even those sitting having a classy cocktail in the upstairs restaurant area). With the slight rasp in her voice, a black corset and the uninhibited passion of her performance, there was a hint of the modern-day Carmen – if Carmen sang with hip-hop influences. She had the audience irresistibly moving to catchy tunes such as ‘Santa Rosa’, and she exuded the contagious enjoyment of a performer who loves her stage and her audience, finishing off an evening that aptly demonstrated the caliber of talent in the Latin music scene right now.

La Linea Festival runs until Wednesday 6th May across various venues in London. Tickets available here: https://comono.co.uk/la-linea/

REVIEW: Grace Pervades


Rating: 3 out of 5.

Competent actors bring to stage a very nondescript story of the greatest stars of the Victorian stage 


There is something quietly ambitious about Grace Pervades as it transfers from its residency in Bath into the intimate setting of Theatre Royal Haymarket, bringing tales of English theatrical royalty to its grandeur. David Hare’s play centres on Victorian icons Ellen Terry and Henry Irving, charting their lives and careers through a detailed biographical lens, partly narrated by Terry’s two out of wedlock children.

What unfolds on stage is a thorough account of these fabled stars, though the framing choice raises questions. The inclusion of Edith and Edward Craig as narrative anchors feels uneven, their place in theatrical history suggested but never fully justified within the piece. Their storyline is also difficult to follow at times, with unclear shifts in timeline and focus. Edward is presented as abrasive and often unlikeable, while Edith is positioned as both a feminist advocate and a more reserved, dutiful daughter, a contrast that never quite settles into something cohesive.

At the centre, the relationship between Terry and Irving is drawn with a steady, if somewhat narrow, focus. Ralph Fiennes portrays Irving as a dour, self-involved figure, capable of generosity in building a company yet clearly uneasy about being outshone. His reluctance to fully champion Terry, keeping her at arm’s length after their relationship shifts, becomes a defining thread. Miranda Raison presents Terry as outwardly confident, though repeatedly shown setting aside her own ambitions in service of Irving’s vision. The dynamic reflects the period, but it also leaves many of the female characters feeling underdeveloped, their roles largely tied to facilitating the lives of others.

The performances themselves are assured. Fiennes delivers a controlled and familiar intensity, inhabiting a brooding, looming Englishman that sits comfortably within his range. Raison, by contrast, offers moments of genuine spark, particularly in her renditions of Shakespeare, which bring a welcome sense of variation. Irving’s own Shakespearean monologues feel more uniform, lacking the same sense of discovery.

The production design is effective without drawing focus. A dark, sheet-covered set evokes both backstage wings and the ghosts of past productions, with much of the action contained within a lit central space. Costumes are time-appropriate and well executed, while the ensemble remains polished and supportive throughout. There are occasional noticeable interruptions in pacing, particularly in transitions between scenes, though these are resolved smoothly enough not to disrupt the overall flow.

The script itself proves more challenging. There are flashes of humour, often rooted in theatrical sensibilities, but these moments are balanced by stretches where the pacing becomes slow and the narrative feels static. The play largely confines itself to the professional ambitions of its central figures, offering limited insight into their wider lives. As a result, the claim that Terry and Irving changed theatre forever is not fully realised on stage, especially for those without prior knowledge of their legacy.

This show runs at Theatre Royal Haymarket until 11th July. Tickets here.

REVIEW: A Midsummer Night’s Dream


Rating: 5 out of 5.

“Pure theatrical joy under the Globe’s open sky”


Few plays carry the enduring familiarity of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, yet for the Globe Theatre’s 2026 summer season, it feels freshly reimagined. Emily Lim’s production creates a space for fun and merriment, where playfulness is apparent in every moment and the joy on stage feels infectious.

The chaos of Dream is brought to life by an excellent ensemble. Adrian Richards graces the stage as Bottom, striking a balance between earnestness and absurdity. Richards gives such an energetic performance throughout. The musical t-shirts land as a visual punchline before a word is even spoken. Michael Grady-Hall leans wholeheartedly into Puck’s mischief, embodying every familiar trait while still finding space to surprise, creating a character that feels classic and freshly unpredictable. Across the wider company, there is a true sense of unity and cheerfulness. Each performer contributes to a world that feels alive in every corner of the stage. It is this shared commitment that allows the magic to be found and the humour to land effortlessly, resulting in a cast that not only performs together, but plays together.

Frankly, there are few places greater to experience Shakespeare. As a travelling reviewer experiencing the Globe for the first time, its immersive and lively reputation was more than upheld. The audience participation throughout the show was met with such enthusiasm. Seeing people light up on stage or stood in the yard, happily surprised by a cast member rushing past, added such relatable merriment, translating the emotions on stage directly to the audience. Director Emily Lim describes the aim of her adaptation is to bring a sense of community to the theatre with the audience being the missing piece of the puzzle, something so beautifully achieved.

Visually, the production matches the energy on stage. A celebration of colour brings to life the otherworldly charm, with flowers that grow as the characters develop and humorous set pieces that heighten the sense of mischief. Jeremy Deller and Edmund Hall’s banner anchors the space at the conclusion, acting as a stunning focal point that reflects the warmth and communal spirit of the production.

Whilst some of the deeper context within the play is softened in favour of exuberance, it is a small trade-off for the smile that lasts long after you cross the millennium bridge back to the city, carrying with it a reminder of the pleasure of shared storytelling.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream delivers pure theatrical joy under the Globe’s open sky, with performances running until 29th August. Tickets are available here.

REVIEW: Papillons


Rating: 4 out of 5.

‘This multimedia, multisensory performance is a delightful exploration of the
power of collaboration and self-expression.’


Papillons is part of the Southbank centre’s Multitudes festival, an exciting initiative
which brings together artists from all walks of life and genres and invites them to
collaborate on new and vibrant projects. Papillons is no exception; a dance, film and
music collaboration responding to composer Kaija Saariaho’s 2000 piece Sept
Papillons
, 7 miniature compositions for Cello which echo the life of a butterfly. The
piece brings together cellist Laura van der Heijden, dance company Thick and Tight,
multimedia artist CHAINES and The Camberwell Incredibles.


The performance plays out like a sort of lecture-theatre piece, with each fragment
being introduced by the artists. We start with CHAINES (Cee Haines), a composer
who blends classical and electronic instrumentation to fuel new expression, debuting
a new piece, entitled Oysters sing of silkworms, also for cello. Van der Heijden plays
with precision and elegance, expertly moving across the neck of the instrument.
Oysters sing of silkworms is an enchanting but dramatic piece, which fully utilises
every inch and sound possibility of the cello.


Next, Thick and Tight take to the stage. The dance duo, real names Daniel Hay-
Gordon and El Perry, give us a dance responding to Holst’s The fall of the leaf, a
beautifully arranged composition, again for cello, which tracks the journey of a leaf
from tree to ground. Van der Heijden plays, while thick and tight, with nuance and
grace, bring to life the arrangement with their signature style. They make full use of
the stage, fluttering and gliding with magnificent prowess.


Between these pieces, we are treated to work by the Camberwell Incredibles, a
community arts initiative making new work which celebrates creativity and passions
and also helps people with learning difficulties to express themselves through art,
film and music. We see projections from the Incredibles, who have again responded
to the idea of the butterfly, with vivid art pieces, poetry and song.


Papillons finishes with the four artists on stage again coming together once again
and giving us the last few phrases of Oysters sing of silkworms. This time, Van der
Heijden has switched to an electric cello, a skeletal and dystopian looking instrument
which has a sound which is eerie and dark. CHAINES provides us with droning
soundscape, and using a vocoder, produces something guttural and organic. Thick
and Tight once again move with the music, producing exquisite choreography.


Overall, Papillons is an extremely interesting exploration on how we find meaning
through art and music. It is beautifully constructed, with a view to being as
welcoming and accessible to everyone. There is nothing pretentious, nothing elitist,
as is often the case for classical music. Here we see something that aims to set
about a change in how we view the arts in general. It is refined, experimental, and
showcases some of the very best talent in Britain today.

REVIEW: Walk Right Back: The Everly Brothers Story


Rating: 5 out of 5.

Harmonies that will warm your heart, this hybrid between tribute and musical is a huge success!


Walk Right Back: The Everly Brothers Story follows the lives of the American musical duo in an interesting way, going one step further than a tribute.  With beautiful harmonies and a wonderful band, this show is impressive on many levels.

The approach to the format for this show is very interesting. More than simply a tribute act, it blends elements of theatre and the natural showmanship of the pair covering the vocals of the brothers. It felt close enough to being a jukebox musical if not for the human element of Curtis Lavender and Luke Wilson choosing to name themselves within the performance and show their own personalities rather than attempt to fully act as Don and Phil past the vocals. In some instances, a natural scepticism over how this can be pulled off is valid as it’s fair to question why it wouldn’t just choose to go down one lane or another, tribute or musical. With this show however, it works very well. The elements of theatre come in the storytelling. It essentially flows the way any musical about the lives of famous singers would, going through their lives, showing us the highs and lows and of course, the music. We even have some light aspects of set, mostly through what seemed to be projectors and occasional props. There are moments where the audience is transported to places The Everly Brothers were known for performing at such as the Grand Ol’ Opry, The Ed Sullivan Show and even The Royal Albert Hall, where they performed their reunion concert in 1983. Where it verges off is Lavender and Wilson. It really wouldn’t take a lot of work to alter aspects of this show and turn it into a full musical, most of the pieces are there but truthfully, it doesn’t feel necessary. The reason this works is because of the charm and charisma of Lavender and Wilson as themselves. These men are born entertainers and the reason this hybrid of sorts works is largely down to them and their skills as performers. There felt to be a natural chemistry between the two which made everything click into place. Combine this with gorgeous vocals, perfectly harmonising together and you have a show that feels distinct and much more personal. The way they interacted with the audience comes into the tribute side of things but makes it feel more intimate than if the two were simply playing Don and Phil Everly. 

Some may not know the story of the brothers or even who they are but they will likely know the music. All I Have To Do Is Dream, Bye Bye Love and Wake Up Little Susie are just a few examples of the hits this show has in store. All of these are songs written by married songwriting duo Felice and Boudleaux Bryant, who wrote many of the songs sang by Don and Phil. While most of the music is light-hearted and feel-good, there are also more emotional numbers like Ebony Eyes, which even The Everly Brothers themselves never sang live save for the chorus as it was deemed too sad, so it was a treat to hear it in full from Lavender and Wilson. A personal favourite of the evening was Lucille which came towards the end of the night, perfectly performed by the duo and the band.

What made this show stand out is that everyone onstage was a skilled musician. Lavender and Wilson were accompanied by an exceptionally talented band. While this was clear throughout the entire evening, it was never more evident that during Country Boy. This blew me away and was maybe even the best moment of the night. The band were perfectly in-sync and the speed and intensity of everyone involved in that moment was beyond admirable. It’s also worth noting that multiple band members provided backup vocals throughout the evening, acting as notable figures connected to The Everly Brothers such as Buddy Holly and The Crickets. 

Overall, this was a tremendous show, both in how it was put together and its execution. It really can’t be faulted. Musically, vocally and tonally, it all works incredibly well. If you’re looking for something a bit different and a really entertaining night, make sure to catch Walk Right Back! Perfect either as an introduction to The Everly Brothers or for those who already know and love them. Nothing but talent and not a single bad thing to say about this performance. 

This show continues touring until July. Tickets here.

REVIEW: Augmented


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

An energetic and well-danced piece that feels it’s missing something


Augmented is a collaboration between Rambert School, The Juilliard School and Studio Wayne McGregor, the culmination of a year of the three working together.

Danced to rib-rattling electronic music made live by DJ Yraki, it is a wonderfully energetic piece filled with ideas that appear and dissolve into one another; groups form and fade; styles are blended together. There is a huge amount happening on stage. It’s an exciting watch and hugely impressive. As you’d expect from such prestigious institutions, the dancers are technically brilliant — these are the people who will shape the future of contemporary dance.

Where Augmented is at its best is when large groups work together. Like cells subdividing, these groups spawn new ones with new variations of movement. The effect is like a ripple across water. The piece has a very effective way of keeping the audience’s eye moving between bodies on stage — moments of symmetry seem to rhyme; moments of conflict flare and resolve. These things appear naturally and spontaneously, as much a construction of where the audience places their attention as of any rigid choreography. In that sense Augmented uses the audience’s imagination in a clever and often moving way.

The closest thing to a throughline is what might be thought of as pauses or glitches. The music often layers in static and distortion, and these elements are absorbed into the dance. Dancers freeze in improbable positions or gain a sudden angularity in their motion. As the title suggests, this is a piece interested in the digital, the uncanny, and the unsteady. Augmented builds ideas — or quotes them from other dance forms — and then deconstructs them. For a while, that deconstruction is interesting, even beautiful. After a while, one starts to wonder what Augmented is actually saying. It deconstructs so thoroughly that it ends up deconstructing itself into oblivion, losing all legibility. Are we supposed to feel that the body is being fused with the digital? Should that worry us? Is dance immune to that? These questions are never really explored. Augmented cycles around itself without ever daring to interrogate its chosen subject. It becomes a matter of taste, but for me the centre cannot hold. It is possible for dance not to need to have a subject but this is not that, it has chosen to have one but finds itself unable to explore it properly. I lost a clear sense of what Augmented is — what its deconstructions reveal.

In the end it feels a little lost. It’s exciting and fun, but the longer I watched the more I felt something was missing — that the choreography could have been shuffled any which way without changing what the piece is. That feeling is what I’m left struggling with. If we believe that dance is as — if not more — communicative than any other medium, it’s a shame to watch work with so much talent from such brilliant companies that nonetheless feels so illegible.

Augmented’s run finishes tonight at Sadler’s East. Tickets here.

REVIEW: The Misfits


Rating: 3 out of 5.

“A great performance piece, especially from Monroe”


There’s a very specific way younger audiences tend to find The Misfits. You go backwards. Maybe from darker modern cinema, maybe from the mythology around old Hollywood, maybe just from the name Marilyn Monroe. And then suddenly you land here: black and white, slow, emotionally exposed, and not quite what you expected.

On paper, it’s stacked. Directed by John Huston, written by Arthur Miller, and co-starring Clark Gable and Montgomery Clift. It’s also overshadowed by its own history: Gable died shortly after filming, Monroe not long after release, and Miller’s marriage to her collapsed in the process. That sense of endings seeps into every frame.

The story is simple but heavy. A newly divorced woman, Roslyn, drifts into the lives of three ageing cowboys in the Nevada desert, men clinging to a version of the West that no longer exists. They capture wild horses and sell them for slaughter, a brutal metaphor that the film never lets you ignore. It’s less a Western than a post-Western, a quiet dismantling of the myth.

And honestly, parts of it are great.

Monroe is the reason to watch. This is her final completed film, and it carries a weight that’s hard to separate from the performance itself. She brings a raw vulnerability to Roslyn that feels almost documentary. There’s a softness, but also a precision. You can see her working, shaping the character with intent. It’s a reminder that she wasn’t just an icon but a performer actively pushing toward something deeper.

Gable, too, is quietly devastating. His performance feels worn down, like he already knows the world he belongs to is disappearing. Clift carries that same fragility. Together, they turn what could have been a traditional Western into something far more melancholic.

But for a younger audience, this is where things get complicated.

Because The Misfits is still deeply rooted in a version of masculinity that hasn’t aged well. The film gestures toward critique. It shows loneliness, repression, emotional damage. But it never fully escapes the mindset it’s examining. A lot of what once read as tragic now reads as toxic. The casual cruelty, the treatment of the horses, the way Roslyn becomes both emotional anchor and moral outlet for the men around her. It’s frustrating in a way that feels very current.

Structurally, it’s uneven too. Scenes drift. Emotions linger too long. It feels less like a tightly built narrative and more like a collection of moments. At times, you can feel the film searching for its own shape.

And yet, it still works.

Partly because of the performances. Partly because of the atmosphere. But mostly because it feels like you’re watching something collapse. Not just these characters, but the mythology of the Western itself. Even the Hollywood system behind it.

That’s what makes it worth revisiting now. Not just as nostalgia, but as a re-evaluation of someone like Monroe. Watching it today, you can see the ambition behind her work. The control. The effort to move beyond being reduced to an image. There’s a clear sense of what she could have become had she been given more time.

Three stars feels right. A great performance piece, especially from Monroe, inside a film that hasn’t fully survived the shift in how we read masculinity on screen. But still compelling, still worth seeing, and still quietly influential.

The Misfits will be re-released in cinemas across the UK and Ireland on 5 June 2026. It also forms a central part of BFI Southbank Marilyn Monroe Self Made Star season (1 June – 31 July), a two-month retrospective curated by Kimberley Sheehan that celebrates 100 years since Monroe’s birth.

REVIEW: Lives Move Like Circles


Rating: 4 out of 5.

An atmospheric and evocative instrumental EP


There are only three tracks on Matthew Kilner’s instrumental EP ‘Lives Move Like Circles’: ‘Kindred’; the title track; and ‘Hygge’. The first two are just over eight and seven minutes long respectively, while the third is only three and a half, but all of them swell and fade in long, deliberate passages. ‘Kindred’ is the best of the three, and it’s probably not a coincidence that it’s also the longest. It’s where the melodies get the most chance to evolve and change, slowly developing. 

The opening bassline and gentle piano of ‘Kindred’, played by Elie Afif and Neil Birse, play off against each other really nicely. The bass provides a contrast to them, and eventually the long sax notes, in its slight urgency. The instrumentation expands and the music crescendos, creating a warm soundscape to fall into which rewards close attention and repeated listening. When the guitar comes in, it creates one of the most exciting moments of the EP. In the closing minutes, the music becomes more staccato, tenser, speeding up and slowing down. Instruments drop out in an inversion of how they were built up in the opening.

The title track stumbles into being, creating a somewhat uneasy, awkward atmosphere. The piano, now playing full chords, is more dramatic here, and the bassline rumbles underneath it all. Kilner’s saxophone wails. The guitars are distorted and beeping, especially in the last couple of minutes. It doesn’t quite reach the heights of the first track, but that’s not saying too much; all three tracks are very good. The juxtaposition between the soft piano and the more unnerving instrumentation is intriguing. More could definitely have been made of it, especially given the lack of dissonance and distortion in the other two tracks. Even as is, it provides an interesting contrast, sitting in the middle of the EP.

‘Hygge’ is pretty and delicate, reflecting the comfort and contentment meant by the Danish word that gives the song its title. Both ‘Hygge’ and ‘Lives Move Like Circles’ could easily be descriptions of the overall feeling of the EP. The way the shifting tempos of the guitars interact is a clear highlight here, although the tenderness of Kilner’s sax here is a close second. The two guitarists- Graeme Stephen and Kevin Henderson- react to each other in interesting ways throughout the EP, often providing a more uptempo counterpoint to everything else that’s going on. 

‘Lives Move Like Circles’ is calming and reflective, a gorgeous twenty minutes. It’s easy to get lost in all three of the songs. All the playing is great, and the production- Doug Whates and Christoph Stickel- is beautifully clear. It’s no surprise to learn that the EP was inspired by poetry (by William Letford) given how evocative it is.