ike Rex Orange County, Easy Life operate in the unlikely corner where modest British indie guys meet woozy US hip hop. The Leicester quintet releases mixtapes as well as albums, they’ve gotten bright beats and quirky sonic touches, and bandleader Murray Matravers flutters between a barely trying croon and something bordering on rapping. On Beeswax, late in this second album, he mentions both names Jay-Z and The Great British Bake Off a line apart. The group is important enough to fly Kevin Abstract of the American rap team Brockhampton out to join them on the main stage at Glastonbury. but not important enough for him to bother remembering his rules.
As the band name suggests, this summer’s embarrassing moment is unlikely to have upset them. Their horizontal music is best experienced in a hammock, and they tend to give the impression that any success thus far has been a happy coincidence, although it certainly takes some skill to take a debut album to number two. and lure fans to a February. tour of major venues including Alexandra Palace and a bullring in Nottingham. “I’d run this jungle if only I’d dressed up,” Matravers says in a singing rap on Basement. Calling In Sick finds him on the 7am commute, but he doesn’t join the rat race. He pushed a night out too far.
Musically, the background has grown into something richer and more layered. Crocodile Tears adds angelic backing vocals to a confident piano line. There are lively trumpets, cut vocal samples, meandering synth lines and even, on Moral Support, some wobbly surf guitar. It’s all so casually genre-fluid that Spotify’s algorithm will no doubt throw its sunny sounds onto any number of playlists.
Matravers’s plan to give the impression that he isn’t putting in much effort, unfortunately extends to his lyrics too, which too easily reach for clichés or lines that can be heard elsewhere. “But I’m wrong to assume / I made an ass out of me and you,” he says of Crocodile Tears. “I see you’re lying because your lips are moving.” On OTT, he advises, “Just try to keep your head above water.”
They are stronger when they have something substantive to write about. The closing track, Fortune Cookie, is an encouraging ballad for the vulnerable: “If you think you need repair, be careful,” Matravers repeats. At times like these, he’s perfectly pleasant company.
(Island)