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Polaroids Of Androids

Record Reviews


Frightened Rabbit
A Frightened Rabbit EP

Biting down gently on his lower lip, his jaw slowing transforming from clenched teeth to calm bitterness, Sir Hutchison delivers a line that roughly translates from Scottish to English as "fuck those English rulers". Pounding his chest once more, a motivational trigger and to dislodge some single malt brew that's solidified under the sub-zero conditions, awkwardly perching itself at the gate between his emotive responses to the world surrounding him and his damaged liver.

Her words from last night run through his head again. "Would you be good enough to take me home?". Probably not. But the mere proposition fills him with warmth. Necessary as the brutal winds from the Selkirk highlands once again pick up, blustering through his thin coat. Another sip of whiskey from the stained coffee mug. Liquid more pure than hymen residue, it immediately fires up his internals.

"Should we pack it all in?", his mentor muffled under a heavy blanket of thick cashmere and decades of exhaustion. Again, more rhetorical than literal. Leading, and almost impossible to answer. However, there's higher stakes now, with a major label on board and the band's inevitable breakthrough moment in the foreseeable future. Everything needs to be reassessed.

This Free-track EP is about triumph, fending off inherited depression, regrets, pain, forgetting everything, trying to forget everything and grabbing opportunities by their swollen bagpipes. It's Frightened Rabbit's brilliant depth of song-writing wit and honesty, concisely presented in the form of three tightly woven tales. But more-so, it's a self-assessment of the band's current purgatory position, between cult-like lust and the overdue rewards that lie in front of them. The last resting point before the imminent transition from being the best band of my generation, to being the best band of my generation that other people also like.

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Frightened Rabbit


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