The Address is the second self-released EP from Cat Matador; four tracks of very nicely put together, exceptionally well recorded introspective pop music. Their brand of mellow, soft-edged folk-meets-indie-guitar schwing certainly isn’t a leap into the great musical unknown, and it walks a tightrope between earnest credibility and the bland pseudo-emotional tug of music so beloved of mobile telephone advertisement soundtracks – but Cat Matador seem to fall on the side of good too often to be doing so by accident. The combination of minimal drumbeats and basslines underneath picked electric guitar lines and subtle violin creates a warm lattice of sound, and the distracted, distant vocal style picks out its own melody in amongst the texture.
The eponymous first track sets the scene with hushed vocals and circular melodies and rhythms, bursting occasionally into more frenzied – comparatively speaking – sections. At times, it’s as if the melodic intricacies and swooping vocals of bands and such as Jonquil, This Town Needs Guns or even Foals have been recreated in a more folk-rooted tradition.
‘The Family That Couldn’t Sleep’ and ‘When Did You Go Blind?’ are perhaps more unique in sound to Cat Matador – with stuttering drum patterns and ethereal female vocal chants, sweet harmonies and emerging, hopeful-sounding guitar lines. Both songs cleverly tie the vocals to the music and display a knack for compact, clever songwriting.
‘We Can Change’ returns to the very-slightly-nudging-at-hipster-indie-post-rock musical style of ‘The Address’ – with Godspeed guitar shimmers evident as if from a great distance, and some shout-into-the-air group vocals. Again, though, the music steers clear of the obvious by artfully turning a few corners into new moods, in order to keep at arm’s length the ease of writing the song off as merely a collection of influences.
It’s easy for bands to forget that magic can be created through restriction. Cat Matador seem to recognise this fact and display it through elegant sparseness and careful arrangement. This is listening music more than cathartic rabble-rousing, and it’s a decent slice of calm.