Back at the end of 2015, I was very taken with West Kirby County Priory, Bill Ryder-Jones third album. It seemed to capture wonderfully a certain British ennui, of winter weather of dead-end towns, of a semi-permanent depressed state, laced with sensitivity in a noble tradition stretching back to Nick Drake, (except Nick Drake fronting an Indie band who'd listened to Pavement a lot).
Three years on and he's back with Yawn. And nothing's really changed at all. In many respects Yawn is West Kirby County Priory Part 2 and I'm not complaining. But if anything the shadows have lengthened and Ryder-Jones finds himself even more cut adrift and alone.
I respect him greatly for choosing to mine this particular dark seam. Before going solo Ryder-Jones was guitarist in the original incarnation of The Coral but chose to depart a relatively stable nine to five existence to do something that's more demanding but ultimately far more rewarding. Ryder-Jones marks his card here as one of the great British pop depressives in the tradition of Morrissey, Robert Smith and Ian Curtis. We should be very grateful to have him among us.
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