Their singular sound makes them a band to route for, with a debut that lands the band firmly on the ground, one of the outliers of this post-punk generation.

An album cover depicts a pair of feet dangling above a cloud, in what we can only assume is some heavenly sky. Perhaps this captures some type of unsteady ascension, barely together at the peak of existence. Alternatively, it could also be the moment before the fall from grace, Adam descending onto the world below following his banishment. It’s Shakespearean and Biblical in this sense, and with some context behind the album’s creation, I’d be opting for the latter. Another thing befallen to us is ‘So Medieval’, the six piece’s debut record. Well considered and unique, Blue Bendy’s debut is a feast detailing of breakdown, ushered in by wry introspection, fragile observations, with a charm to its humour and rawness. Another under 40-minute album (let’s discuss epidemic this another time) that tells of the aftermath in its messy, hilarious, and most beautiful moments.

With the titular track as the opener, the no bullshit opening to the album sets out on a plane of dejection. ‘No sex/No mess/No second chance/The ceremonial setting fire to my underpants’. Here lays the repercussion of heartbreak, in this admission of non sensical exorcising; this is the stuff I want to hear from a breakup album. ‘Come on Baby, Dig!’ receives the slight extended intro treatment, in a track that journeys through landscapes in search for the palpable, the jaded optimism elevated by the choppy guitar sounds and morose bass line. ‘I’m Sorry I Left Him To Bleed’ is a pause in shrill for a muted, gentle track that goes against its gentle tone, with its lyrics provoking vivid imagery of contemplation in the midst of violence.

The sound of Blue Bendy might’ve once derived from the post punk that populates the inner places of London, but ‘So Medieval’ pushes past the genre, sitting on the bed of a folk undercurrent with the acoustic guitar at the helm of Harrison Charles. Olivia Morgan’s contributions on the synthesizer is another character that feels vital to the band’s distinctive sound. In these zaps that interpose the vocals of Nolan, a whimsy is created that befits the storytelling, fable like nature of these songs. Arthur’s skilful narration, referential to current meme culture, to religious imagery, to the damn right it boy of television, Kendall Roy. Their singular sound makes them a band to route for, with a debut that lands the band firmly on the ground, one of the outliers of this post-punk generation.