Evolution (in the summertime) is the ethos behind this inspired latest outing from The Hanging Stars, your favourite purveyors of, well, more than you might have expected.

REFINE THE PAST & POLISH THE FUTURE

The last time we mentioned this band, it was to comment how many other acts were leaning on their “cosmic Americana” angle, it becoming a bit of a thing. Perhaps presciently, therefore, they have slipped slightly sideways into, if not rock certainly something at the poppier edge thereof, the c word subsumed by layer upon layer of jangle. Sure, the Byrds have always featured as a major lodestone for Olson and co, but now it is much more McGuinn central. The spectre of Gram Parsons is barely noticeable. This may be, in part, down to the absence of pedal steel within their armamentarium, but, you know, you don’t miss it.

KITH & KINDRED SPIRITS

Album number six, or seven, with the last being both a staging post and breather, a collab with the Canadian folk/country matriarch, Bonnie Dobson, this is a more overt how do you like out new direction. Not that an answer is required, as they have already decided. Elsewhere it is business as usual. Now a trimmed down quartet, Richard Olson, Patrick Ralla, Paul Milne and Paulie Cobra have once more decamped, with co-producer, Sean Read, to Edwyn Collins’ Caithness studio, Clashnarrow, in Helmsdale, their third attendance. Along the way they have linked up with Gerard Love, the erstwhile Teenage Fanclubber, and very much a kindred spirit, who also produces and guests across a couple of tracks. We’ve caught the early singles and they haven’t disappointed.

FLOODS OF FEELGOOD

“It feels so good to do what you want“, sings Olson on the opener, All Your Yesterdays, and instantly the reminder of what a feelgood song this is floods back. The tone of Ralla’s (borrowed from Collins) Gretsch guitar is warm and lustrous, almost that of an electric piano, as Olson slips into pole position for the laid back vocal. As the band all crowd in for the chorus, this could equally be 1968 as 2026. Or any time between, if with much better production. The backdrop of shoogly vintage organ is perfect as a bed for the mix of voices and chiming guitars. The Glasshouse, another single, then strides out forthrightly, based less on cruise control than throwing down the gauntlet to any passing traffic cop, especially if in shades and on a Harley. The harmonies are exquisite. I’m in.

Sister Of The Sun then whips up some languid tie-dye psychedelia, with some not Garcia-unadjacent guitar notes bubbling into the mix. Pedal what, I’ve forgotten they ever had one. The tingles as background keyboards ripple are sublime. A picked guitar motif underwrites Think I’ll Be Alright, the vocals now more hesitant. But Cobra and Milne have the chops to eradicate any sense of falter, and drive the choruses on into relentless. Some soaring guitar carries just enough hint of distort to catch the flavour of being, if not eight miles high, certainly not so far from that. And is that a fiddle tucked in somewhere here, and indeed there is, with a Jim Morrison adding his bow work for this one.

RETRO RELISH

Is that a direct nod to the Traveling Wilburys as Let It Slide opens? If it is, “It’ s OK and It’s alright“, with that statement integral to the lyric, the blend of 6 and 12 string guitars magnificent. So far all the songs have come from Olson, but it is Ralla, his right hand man on guitars and keyboards, who has written (You Keep) Making Me Wait. Whilst this retains the upbeat vibe, it steers deeper into retro territory, awash with ba ba ba bvs, and, by virtue the relish which it is taken, any initial sense of it being overly derivative is swiftly discarded.

Read is a canny desk hand, and the balance between the guitars, the vocals and the wash of surrounding keys, some of them his, is point perfect. And don’t miss the subtle step up the gears toward the close. And, if it sounds as if it’s just going to fade, slap that wrist, as it ends properly, on some restrained feedback and a defiant throwaway chord.

ANTE UPPED

Just as you reflect on quite what a piece of work this band and their two co-producers have wrought, Big Red Car ups the ante, with a slower strum of guitar to keep the swell of organ in check. Whether it is Love or the geography of the recording, the band have never sounded sweeter, with that tang of U.S. west coast authenticity that comes usually from what one might call Glaswegiana. As woozy slide guitar wafts slowly into this track, the North Sea couldn’t be further away. Picking up on the woozy, Time Is Nothing expands on that, channeling also something more serious into the proceedings. More serious? Well, I’m thinking Tim Buckley, that, perhaps, down to Gaz Playford’s additional vocals, somehow bringing on a more sombre tone.

SEPIA PSYCHEDELIA

Talking of additional vocalists, as well as the all four band members, plus Read and Love, there are a brace of, presumably, junior Olsons, Evan and Lyra, present for Run Run Run, which follows. The psychedelia is significantly sepia on this one, and is chocka rays of bright sunlight, with what sounds like a Farfisa purring away throughout. Show Me The Way, next, is an unsophisticated pop-rocker as might grace a TOTP in the early 70’s, almost proto-glam in substance. This is a co-write between bassist, Milne and Olson. Which is as good a time to note the sheer undemonstrativeness of his bass across the album. Undemonstrative as in perfectly uncluttered, with not a note unecessary.

Hitting the home straight and it is into My Lucky Charm, a delicate number that, of all things, seems to carry a distant echo of Zeppelin’s Thank You. Maybe it is just me, but it is exactly that mood that is conspired, mood more than melody, and, if to call it mellow devalues the true meaning of the word, so be it. A final co-write, for the title track and by Ralla and Olson, and it is as pleasing a way to end what has been a thoroughly immersive near 40 minutes. Here there is a distant tang of the Kinks, Don’t Forget To Dance actually, which becomes a real treat. The main guitar motif, by being passed through a Leslie cabinet, offers a question, as to why nobody does that any more. They should.

WHAT STEEL?

Ha! There were those who suggested that The Hanging Stars sans steel would be a spent penny. Heck, it may even have been, in private, me. This could not be further from the reality that this record displays in stark focus, their best yet. Can’t wait to hear these songs live.

Here is a lovely video of Let It Slide, acting also as an enticing ad for Clashnarrow studios, up on the hillside above Helmsdale. Looks gorgeous, the song not half bad either, any similarities etc etc.

The Hanging Stars: Website

At The Barrier: Facebook / X / Instagram