Breeze have caused a fair amount of bluster across the Birmingham area since forming, from fervent chants of “Jorge is gay” to recently supporting behatted behemoths Trash and Plaza. Their new EP is a collection of songs that matches their ambitions, successfully blending raw, Swim Deep-style riffery with a radio-friendly sheen.
They channel the vignettes of The 1975’s debut album with the cinematic snapshot of Intro, which builds from a laconic riff into a stately surge of shouts. After that, Toot De La Fruit is a surprisingly sensitive and serene collection, where even the Peace-esque, scattered guitars of Bleach are undercut with a bitter sweet blast. It’s a job they do well – Three Years settles into a delicate, reverb-drenched coda, before morphing into a spine-tingling rumble of raging riffs and a tremolo-infused motif.
It’s ironic that their big-hearted anthem is called Sellotape, for throughout singer Paul Baker can barely hold it together; he yearns and pleads throughout the hankering chorus, which will surely go down well at the Sunflowers and L’Amours of the country. Equally as impressive is the more up tempo Luna Love Me Good, which certainly lives up to its Potter pun – the band’s trademark guitar work is undercut with a Best Coast barrage of garage scuzz, giving the song a welcome lo-fi layer.
Birmingham’s music scene is in rude health, and Breeze are certainly contributing to it with this strong suite of sadness and surf. The best breezes always leave goose bumps – this is no exception.
Words: Sam Lambeth