Teleman, 'Breakfast'

Aside from Thomas Sander’s distinctive vocal style, Teleman couldn’t be much more different than their previous incarnation, jaunty indie-pop merchants Pete and The Pirates. Breakfast is a sleek, psychedelic-tinged collection of tracks, all graced by Bernard Butler’s characteristic production. Each song sounds charmingly off kilter, like a broken fairground ride in a seaside town lost in nostalgia.

In stand-out opening track, Cristina, harmonious vocals layer over retro-sounding Hammond organ riffs. The band’s penchant for an awkwardly-phrased rhyming couplet is revealed in lyrics like: ‘She makes me go across town/ she makes me to lie down’, and brings to mind similarly quirky masters of the English language, Alt J and Django Django. Single 23 Floors Up, as well as the song, In Your Fur, are both world-weary and heavy hearted. They sit over a background of sweeping strings, with the latter descending into an almost prog-like distorted breakdown. Minimal 1980s synth pop takes over on vocoder-lead Steam Train Girl and sombre Monday Morning, the likes of which wouldn’t be out of place on one of Blur’s later releases.

One of the album’s more catchy offerings is Skeleton Dance, which takes a more upbeat turn. But the band’s real strength lies in the more dark and brooding songs, such as Lady Low, a slower ballad with a 1980s pop sax outro adding to the LP’s nostalgic feel. Redhead Saturday doesn’t shy away from a retro sound either, with tinkling music hall piano disguising subversively coarse lyrics: ‘She can f*ck herself for all I couldn’t care’.Whether or not all the songs on this LP are about the same person is up for debate, but there’s an underlying sense of bitterness and regret that can only be attributed to heartache.

Mainline has a lush rising chorus, with a few Britpop guitar solos thrown in for good measure, and treats the listener to some more distinctly British wry observations, such as: ‘Think about the money you spent on making friends last night/ Tell me truly do you sleep alright?’. There’s more than a touch of late-90s jaded disenchantment to Breakfast, delivered in both the melody and lyrics. The record ends with Travel Song, which is backed by what sounds like an old Casio keyboard loop, and leads into a hidden track which delves into 1960s psychedelia. There’s a transport theme in the LP’s lyrics, and a sense that this is a band who is looking back on their past journeys with a weary eye.

You’ll sense whimsical regret ebbing throughout, leaning us to believe that the title Breakfast could allude to that feeling of the morning after the night before. But it’s more heartbreak and longing than hedonistic nights of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll. That said, the album is far from sad, and leaves the listener with a warm sense of wistfulness. It’s a collection of perfectly obtuse indie-pop, that proves this reinvention is a change for the better.

Read full review at Kemptation