Errors Have Some Faith In Magic

Let’s make something clear straight off the bat. I have been a pretty big fan of Errors from the first time I heard 2008’s Salut! France and have followed them ever since. Slowly but surely, as many compatriots in the similar synth ‘n guitars mould have fallen by the wayside, Errors have continued to less blaze a trail but rather carve a niche for themselves, in no small way abetted by their rigorous touring schedule which will undoubtedly have picked up fans along the way. Now, following their charming debut It’s Not Something But It Is Like Whatever and 2010’s entertaining Come Down With Me, we arrive in 2012 with Have Some Faith In Magic. Is it three for three? I’m sure you’ve seen the score up there.

Almost all coverage of this record has been dominated by two themes: that Errors have ‘gone pop’ and that guitarist Stephen Livingstone has stepped out from behind the shadows to add an extra dimension to the band’s work via a significantly more obvious vocal input. The latter is unquestionable, although they are indecipherable; largely treated as another element in the mix utilised for atmospheric purposes as opposed to more conventional front and centre singing. The former is dubious, however – the band have abandoned some of the afrobeat influences that decorated Come Down With Me, and though Blank Media comes off curiously like a rework of 80s slowdance staple Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper, all very cutesy and with glossy production, it is hardly likely to make an assault on the charts (despite the best intention of The Saturdays). Indeed, often the pendulum swings the other way, as with tracks such as ode to hillwalking The Knock showcasing a head-in-the-clouds direction, evocative of acts like the Cocteau Twins, previously unheard of from a band usually more concerned with interlocked grooves and exploring that sweet spot between headphones and the dancefloor.

For the most part, however, here we have Errors firing on all cylinders and exhibiting the canny combination of eminently danceable rhythms with big hooks and gorgeous synth melodies. Opener Tusk races in like a F-Zero theme song, all bright keyboards and rousing guitarwork, while closing song Holus-Bolus is a widescreen epic, possibly the best song on the record and arguably the strongest one penned by the band to date. They appear fond of tempo changes too, never sitting still for too long: Magna Encarta has a steady but propulsive backbeat locked in before a killer riff slices across the throat of the track, provoking a frenetic build before everything comes to a shuddering halt; on the flipside, Pleasure Palaces’ upbeat groove unravels towards the end, winding down to a crawl before spluttering out.

Have Some Faith In Magic is not perfect, however, and suffers slightly from a meandering second half after bursting out the traps with ferocity, settling for a gentler pace. Barton Spring comes off as a weaker Believer by John Maus, and the vocals begin to grate as the record comes to its conclusion, drifting aimlessly when it should be soaring. It is a less immediate beast than its predecessors, but their progression away from a template that could have gone stale is commendable, and once the album weasels its way into your head it is pretty difficult to get it out, proving to be a rewarding and triumphant expansion of their signature sound. Wherever they go next, I’ll be following closely behind – and I strongly suggest you do too.