The Umbrellas

Much like a good opening line to a novel, there’s nothing like an absolutely devastating riff to hook a listener into an album. Now, me? I’m already sold on The Umbrellas. The band’s debut in 2021 was a beacon in the bluster of a year that threatened to capsize the spirit. For the uninitiated though, the first few seconds of “Three Cheers” hit like an indie pop uppercut. Serving the same breathless whiplash as The Loft’s indelible “Up The Hill and Down Again,” the twang-tinged intro rack-focuses the listener into a world of jilted jangles, rocky love, fuzztone farewells, and perfectly pouted pining. A sophomore album is always a proving ground. Bands used to live and die by the second salvo, but from the first moments to the last lingering notes of Fairweather Friend, The Umbrellas prove that their second album is bound to be among their best.

The debut was built on a love for ‘80s and ‘90s pop that played with candid songwriting, and the album’s home-recorded roots gave it the feeling of a lost curio. The band’s live shows, meanwhile, found them pushing for something bigger, and that sound comes crashing through on their follow-up. Still self-recorded, but hardly sounding like that’s the case, the band have pushed the volume and dynamics to the forefront on Fairweather Friend. Buzzing with a caffeinated smile that recalls The Primitives at their most effervescent, the record seems to wrap around the listener like a favorite scarf. They grab the fizz of the Coventry band and run with it, though their love for The Pastels still steers the record like a rudder, and quieter moments nod to BMX Bandits or The Aislers Set. The record fills every nook and niche of the speakers, inflating like a bouquet of balloons about to burst. The debut has probably retained a rut from the amount of times that it’s been on my turntable and I can’t wait to carve a few more rotations into this one. As far as sequels go, you couldn’t ask for a more perfect record than Fairweather Friend.

Support the artist. Buy it HERE.