Editors - 'An End Has A Start' (SonyBMG) Released 25/06/07

Ok boys, decision time. The debut album, once momentum got going, shifted half a million copies and there’s no clamour yet to change the sound. On the other hand, you’re undoubtedly a sensitive group of people and don’t want to simply repeat the formula of 'The Back Room'. How about…get the Snow Patrol producer, fill the sound, aim for the stadium and try avoiding the pitfalls of blandness awaiting you. That has been the approach of Editors for their second LP, 'An End Has A Start', and while it won’t please those wondering if there really is a deeper side to the band (similar to the weak Joy Division comparisons lazy journos have made) it will probably sell by the bucketload. It has already got them the big festival moment at Glastonbury this past Saturday.

As highlighted on album opener, 'Smokers Outside The Hospital Doors', Tom Smith’s lyrics have never been great. 'Munich' is banal babble really, and it’s pushing things to claim that "the saddest thing that I’ve ever seen/were the smokers outside the hospital doors". The ability to create pathos despite the unpromising basis is the main reason Editors appeal to so many people. The resonant voice of Smith is lifted by the unapologetically anthemic guitars, drums and snyths. As an opening statement, it’s confidence personified. Which is a bit odd, because it’s the insecure appeal of the band that has proved one of their main attractions.

The title track is reminiscent of the simple, tonal riffs of 'The Back Room'. The bridge is where 'An End Has A Start' moves from the familiar to the fantastic. Stepping up a gear from the original 5 note start, the bold statement from Smith, "You came on your own/and that’s how you’ll leave", again shows Editors stacking all their cards on their lead singer’s efforts and how, when it works, it’s brilliant.

The band might seem desperate to cement their position as Wembley-fillers but the insecurity and fears which plague their thoughts runs through the whole album. The "You’ve fused my broken bones" lyric in 'The Weight Of The World' gives the sense that Smith has not had the happiest time and anxious fear makes it sound like he’s overdosed on Sylvia Plath. Ultimately, the track is about finding some sense of redemption because you mean something to someone. 'Spiders' is in the same vein with Smith left alone, vulnerable and imploring, "Hold out your hand/Come back to me". The lyrics occasionally espouse cod-philosophical truisms but they’re merely observations rather than statements. Both tracks have the epic touch of producer Jacknife Lee with Edge-esque guitars and studio big sound treatment. Even this just seems a cover for the insecurities of the four men creating it.