More about: Sad Boys Club

Sad Boys Club are one of those bands that, just as you think you’ve got them figured out, will turn around and surprise you once again. 

As their name suggests, the London-based quartet very much wear their influences on their sleeve. At times you’ll find them channelling the goth-rock of The Cure, at others the melodic emo of bands like Death Cab For Cutie and Sunny Day Real Estate. Sometimes it may even be the shimmering indie-pop of more contemporary bands like Spector and The 1975. However, whilst the inspirations behind their music are always clear, Sad Boys Club’s uniqueness lies in them bringing together all these touchpoints to forge a genre-defying sound that is entirely of their own making.

"Lullabies From The Lightning Tree is a treasure trove of a debut"

Now Lullabies From The Lightning Tree may be their debut album, but the four-piece already feel like veterans at this point. Having formed in late 2017, the band have already built up an enviable catalogue of catchy singles and accomplished EPs, which can sometimes be a red flag that a band have burnt through all their material early doors. Thankfully that isn’t the case here, as Lullabies From The Lightning Tree is a treasure trove of a debut that presents an entirely new collection of songs and successfully builds on the foundations laid by those earlier releases.

If you were to go back to those early singles, you would find Sad Boys Club wrestling with an early-20s identity crisis, filled with anxiety and anger whilst both unsure of themselves and their collective musical vision. But it’s a different tale on Lullabies From The Lightning Tree, with the quartet sounding more assured of the band they want to be and comfortable with not fitting into any particular box, instead just painting with whatever sonic textures do the song and its thematic contents justice. They also seemingly have a greater perspective on life, love and relationships too, with the album’s broad message being to not sweat over the small stuff because, in the grand scheme of things, it all doesn’t really matter. 

This mission statement is laid out straight away on thunderous introduction ‘Peak’, which sees frontman Jacob Wheldon at his most Robert Smith-esque as he describes deep seas and fires burning. With the record entirely self-produced by bassist Pedro Leite, he opts for what feels like a raw live recording on this opener, beginning with shuffling drums and atmospheric guitars before things erupt midway through into a full-throttle rock barrage. It’s a colossal start, which was seemingly a eureka moment in the studio as the song ends on a (quite funny) exasperation of profane blasphemy which I won’t spoil here.

Fully living up to its name, ‘Delicious’ is then an addictive alt-rock banger filled with tasty hooks and poignant lines like “I guess the love that stretched miles wide was maybe only ever inches deep.” It highlights one of the record’s biggest strengths which is Jacob Wheldon’s heartfelt, nuanced lyricism. ‘The Cracking Song’ is another fine example of this, with Wheldon’s vocals starting out as a murmur over melancholic guitars, before becoming increasingly anguished as the song progresses, belting out witty yet tormented lines like “I needed something to stick, and found a fragment of god in a Campari Spritz.” A lyric of which one of his mentors, Fred Macpherson of Spector, would be proud.

The album then hits another peak with lead single ‘To Heal Without A Scar (Is A Waste of A Good Wound)’, an indie-rock anthem where Wheldon sings of his own instincts to self-sabotage so that he can remain creative and inspired to write songs. Throughout the track he confesses to pushing himself to the brink for his art, with “one hand on the canvas, the other on the curtain” before then exclaiming “it’s never a car ‘till it crashes.” Eventually it hits boiling point around the three-minute mark, with a seismic instrumental breakdown exploding around Wheldon as he empties his lungs into the delivery of the words: “I am pursuing you, Life, to the end of the earth, across an Amazon of portable TV screens.” It’s a powerful moment and one that’s sure to stand your neck hairs on end. 

Recent single ‘Lumoflove’ then timely brings the tempo of the record down a notch with a gentle, lamenting piano ballad. It’s another track that really highlights the band’s growing prowess as songwriters, with Wheldon’s vocal delivery once again stealing the show and inducing goosebumps as he full-heartedly cries “I saw a man run 25 miles for the woman that loves.”

However, it isn’t all completely smooth sailing as there are admittedly a couple of misfires around the record’s midway point. Whilst you can appreciate what they were aiming for with the self-referential and parody-like nature of ‘Coffee Shop’, it just doesn’t quite land like intended. As Wheldon mockingly sings of wanting to “write a song like Weezer” and “find a guy like Jesus”, it just ends up feeling out of place amongst the other songs on and is particularly jarring after such an earnest track like ‘Lumoflove.’ Follow up ‘Something Else’ then tries to get things back on track by tackling the archaic nature of relationships through imagery of shipwrecks and nods to Radiohead’s Karma Police, but it also never quite takes flight like some of the album’s earlier moments. 

Thankfully things pick up again with ‘2bites2it’, a track that immediately draws comparisons to The 1975’s The Birthday Party due to both its sonic make-up and central melody. The real differentiator though is the incredible outro, which begins with a breakdown of soft pianos before firing into a euphoric solo from talented guitarist, Chris Holmes.

"If this is your introduction to Sad Boys Club then you’re sure to be instantly won over..."

The band then save two of their finest moments for a strong finale, with ‘Cemetery Song, 20/5’ showcasing Sad Boys Club at their darkest and most vulnerable. With his honest words surrounded by a beautiful arrangement of soaring strings and folky banjos, Wheldon reflects on living with his brother during a particularly tough period. It is a stunning piece of songcraft, that is both a real gut-punch but ultimately quite uplifting too. ‘(You’re) All I Ever Wanna Do’ then brings the record to a close amidst a triumphant soiree of blues rock, a wonderful love letter from the band to each other after some heated writing sessions but also a heartfelt sentiment with which anyone can relate.

So whilst it may have a couple of moments that don’t quite hit the mark, the high points here more than make up for any lows and it’s likely that we won’t get many debuts this year as sure-footed and impressive as Lullabies From The Lightning Tree. If this is your introduction to Sad Boys Club then you’re sure to be instantly won over and if you were familiar with them before, then you’ll likely come away from this debut with even greater admiration for them and their music. 

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More about: Sad Boys Club