Lengthy, somewhat superfluous introductions out the way, Liar, My Dear stumbles about in a lovestruck haze, as gangly guitars hark Louder Than Bombs and ping about in the subconscious for minutes upon hours upon (quite possibly) days. It'd be so blasé to cast The Heartbreaks aside as your typical grubby, quiffed quartet it's almost involuntarily futile, so hook-laden are their theatrical odes to British shores, as Matthew Whitehouse's vocals undulate from brooding baritone caterwauls to fluctuating falsettos. Were you ever in need of an ideal soundtrack to a break-up on Blackpool peer, set in the seventies, as the wind flicked your hair about over a monotonous grey-scale horizon, this lot'd be shuffling about awkwardly behind Rickenbackers in the background. Like a musical take on This Is England fueled on heartbreak in place of racist hatred, these sounds are as attractive to open ears as wasps to sticks of seaside rock.
Liar, My Dear by The Heartbreaks
The Heartbreaks' Myspace.
