Finding out via a band’s email blurb that they began life in San Francisco but now reside in the hinterland that is London and Sweden allows me to haul out this old chestnut: how inconvenient must their practice sessions be?
Thus, I’m guessing that either Treasureseason spend a lot of time on North Sea ferries shuttling to and from the two places, or that one of these locations is now a virtual band outpost.
Or maybe they choose the woozy isolation of that North Sea ferry to write their woozy, isolated songs. See what I did there?
The most pleasing aspect of Secrets is, remarkably, not its de rigueur yet hugely soothing use of chopped and dropped vocal samples, it’s breathy feel, or even its bold, slow beat: it’s the sharp, glossy keyboard stabs that propel this song from potential cheese-fest to gloriously widescreen epic-pop.
Honest, comely and weirdly organic.