After sojourning in his own oasis of serene contemplation for the best part of three years, BEN HOWARD returns to a neat approximation of his first two albums with this gently insistent and, after repeated plays, almost ethereally delicious slice of semi-acoustic beauty.

He possesses an uncanny knack of picking away at the layers of your heart, starting off here with the line –‘ What a day to go around / Heavy with the sounds of breaking mirrors’ which, in itself, carefully confounds expectations. The deliberately open-ended title leaves interpretation fluid: is this a love song, a musing upon the end of a relationship or something no more or less profound? Like all of his  recent offerings, Ben enjoys letting the listener find their way into the softly beating core of his songs.

He remains a fairly elusive narrator, setting out his existential stall with some subtle insistence of programmed drums, set adroitly against a deep, bass pulse and the knock of thumbs against the metal strings of an acoustic guitar. And, then, that voice: almost not there, a presence, imploring you to focus on what is going on around and about, not too obtrusive but letting you experience a mood that merges within a solemn sense of spirituality.

It’s commercial enough, yet produces discernible, alternative methods of projection. The almost unnoticed rise up half a tone in the opening bars, mixing melancholy and optimism in a few chords, leading into a pre-chorus that implores ‘Where to put the right words/Where does all the time go?’  He is a craftsman and the song’s production carries your ears into lush territory, where the drums drop out momentarily, then gently hove back into view and is that a cello or synth in the background? You realise that now, you are caught up in his web of wonder, where the heart gently throbs, a suggestion, held together yet loosely fitting.

The lyrics, as mentioned, are sublime and complement the circular nature of the song. Rivers are breaking, he is walking, healing - as he reaches the heart of this reluctant anthem, the imagery cascades thick and luminous: ‘Always fearing / Our hands pawing /Up against the light, it's nearing / Where does all the time go?’

Moving into the fourth minute, a ‘Boys of Summer’ electric guitar solo drifts in, unassuming yet utterly beguiling. Then, it’s all gone, disappeared into the advancing dawn.

Turn it on, turn it around, touch, caress, kiss its shining eyes. Treasure this moment, for now is infinite and eternal.

Hugh Ogilvie

Ben’s new album ‘Collection from the Whiteout’ will be available to purchase form 26th March 2021, pre-order your copy by visiting his website