- There’s an eccentricity to Homeshake’s music that permeates its overarching sad-sack forlornness, and probably vice versa, too. Both elements seem to rely on one another, and this is good, because if they stood as separate things, you might end up being repulsed by the angular melodies and dilapidated arrangements, and unimpressed with Pete Sagar’s honestly quite whiney and frail voice. He consistently pulls off the trick, though, of balancing these things in a way that’s totally intoxicating. The balance feels juicier and fuller of character than ever on his new LP, Midnight Snack.

The album’s mood was inspired by the loneliness Sagar experienced while touring the planet as Mac Demarco’s lead guitarist, but its sound takes converse cues from '90's and early 2000's R’n’B – a sound and ethos that has no idea about what wallowing in ennui would even be like, and time only for putting your hands in the air like you just don’t care. The result is what I’d describe as a very extreme white-boy take on the slickness and the groove of D’Angelo and R Kelly. Add Sagar’s minimalistic approach to production into the equation, and the result is a completely tangible vibe that’s as warm, inviting, and CHILLAXXED as the album’s title suggests.

Heat (basically the opening song) is such a good track, and the best tracks on the album are probably the ones most like it. In these songs, Sagar just nails some phenomenally evocative choruses. He puts this really languid, lazy spin on the tightness that the rhythm sort of demands from the vocals. It makes you feel like you’re falling asleep, only to keep waking up a couple of seconds after each time. He’s Heating Up, Faded, and Move This Body are the other best examples of this kind of sound working perfectly. Give It To Me is also like that, but it takes the weirdness up several notches, into the realm of the crazy.

A few other cuts on here wouldn’t really be out of place on his previous record, last year’s In The Shower; I Don’t Wanna, Love Is Only A Feeling and the title track are the key ones. They don’t feel like a distraction though; they sort of feel like necessary commas placed carefully throughout the album, and serve to show that he hasn’t totally ditched his original guitar-pop formula for the wigged-out beats and stankiness of the rest of the album.

I don’t think I’ve come across anything this year that’s equally as pleasurable or easy to listen to than Midnight Snack. That said, emotional bias could be a real issue here, because the sad, disillusioned, complaining white-boy themes that give this record its distinct, snack-like flavour very strongly resemble the thoughts that circle around my head at any given point of the day, and I fully respect and admire those who can’t relate to that at all. But surely there’s a lot to enjoy here for any discerning fan of slightly skewed, experimental pop music. And it’s not a “big deal” kind of album either. It’s low-key. There’s a reason it’s called Midnight Snack, and not Huge Meal. It’s just something for you to snack on.

– Joe Saxby.