Mirror Mirror

Mirror Mirror smacks of a band struggling to be taken more seriously, but simply settling on a more stone-faced form of pastiche isn't the way to do it. All they've really done is trade a Halloween party for a history lesson.

As much as the album buzzes with new energy-thanks to producer J.D. Twitch, hailing from the DJ duo Optimo-it also creaks with growing pains. Mirror Mirror is never as immediate as its predecessor, and it buffers its outstanding highlights in forgettable combinations of spooky textures, disembodied vocals, and bloodless guitars.

In a way, the clear stylistic changes here put a spotlight on how diverse the group's discography really is. Just when you think you know somebody....

The band's latest release is a substantial departure from previous efforts, employing a strong post-punk vibe to its production, with repetitive, pronounced bass line and drum rhythms (courtesy of Ailidh Lennon and David Gow, respectively), wiry guitar agitation, and the feel of being recorded in an empty room.

Sons and Daughters add to their canon of murder ballads, then finish the album with the sound of a rain storm on a beach enveloping Bethel's ghostly vocal, a sound that seems to linger long after it fades from earshot.

Overall on Mirror Mirror, Sons and Daughters sound like they are borrowing from the Interpol version of post-punk rather than the real thing.

Neither as playful as previous efforts nor as spooky as it wants to be, Mirror Mirror is a middling effort by a good band.

Damned if they do and damned if they don't, it seems, but never sounding damned enough.

Mirror Mirror may be easier to admire, or more likely be creeped out by, than to love, but it marks an interesting turning point for Sons and Daughters, suggesting either that they've come to terms with the fact that they'll never be particularly successful and so are now happy to push themselves into darker territory, or that they're struggling and this may be their last gasp.

Their Macabre storytelling and aura of imminent violence lend themselves well to Twitch's vintage synths, and suspenseful effects. [Jul 2011, p.119]

The weird miracle is how natural singers Scott Paterson and Adele Bethel sound harmonizing (well, singing together) over subdermal synth buzz.

The resulting record is one that softens with repeated listens, even if it's so full of bad juju you may initially feel compelled to burn it at the stake. [Jul 29011, p.112]

The contrast between Adele Bethel's sassy snap and Scott Paterson's rousing holler is expertly deployed, resulting in a stirring record, packed full of ideas, from a band who seem to have rediscovered their spirit of adventure. [Jul 2011, p.94]

Mirror Mirror is not obvious instant success. But given time, as with the best records, it reveals a wonderfully stark energy; all sinewy shadowplay, stripped-back space and a compelling sexuality.

Mirror Mirror is a raw, nocturnal and very northern record, and one that's nailed its bleeding, hedonistic colours high up the musical mast.

The Glaswegian band's chosen style this time around, namely dark vintage synth pop (early Human League) and scratchy, spindly post-punk (Wire, the Cure), matches the mood and subject matter perfectly.

Reminders of the past are pleasant, but at the end of the day, you'll be choosing Power, Corruption & Lies or Songs of Faith and Distortion over Sons & Daughters' Mirror, Mirror.

Ultimately, depending upon how you felt about their last record Mirror Mirror is either a return to, or continuation of, form.