Curve of the Earth

Curve of the Earth wastes little time in setting the controls for the heart of the sun with the lead single "Telomare," a big, atmospheric blast of anthemic, mid-'90s stadium rock that segues nicely into the equally dreamy "Bombay Blue." From there things bounce back and forth between the bucolic and the sublime.

With a natural ebb and flow, Curve Of The Earth is both a new departure for the Mystery Jets and their most consistent and rewarding album yet.

An incredibly accomplished effort from a band who have truly found their feet.

The meticulous arranged synths, crackling guitars and electronic glitches ensure the attention never wavers. [Feb 2016, p.114]

The result is a lengthy cinematic suite of songs.... and in the rest; a record’s worth of epic, towering soundscapes built on sturdy prog and indie rock foundations.

It’s the balance of maturity and melody that will keep you going back to this album. They’ve grown up, but then so have their fans. Let's just see where they go from here.

Mystery Jets are old hands at this now--and while this offering doesn’t have the immediacy that classics such as ‘Two Doors Down’ and ‘Serotonin’ bring, it is a necessary record from a band that needs to work out where it goes from here.

What the Jets might have lost in terms of their early quirkiness, they make up for in melody and emotional heft. [Feb 2016, p.78]

Curve of the Earth is an ode to the uncertainty of the quarter-life crisis that somehow manages to make that awkward entry into maturity sound bittersweet and beautiful at once.

A sense of growth, impermanence and yearning runs through these songs. [Mar 2016, p.96]

Apart from a few tonal blips (Taken By The Tide may well be a smuggled-in Band of Horses track, and 1985’s piano ballad proves an idling mid-point), Curve... is a remarkably slick experience.

Curve of the Earth isn’t a complete rebound--there are too many fumbles, too many eye-rolls. But in its fits of brilliance, Mystery Jets reclaim their throne as rock’s savviest copycats.

The influences are certainly varied, and harsher critics might suggest a lack of editorial control--a perfect example being Blood Red Balloon, which manages to recall both Grizzly Bear and Toto. Only Saturnine manages to resist the temptation to explode, and is the freshest track as a result (albeit with a guitar break that evokes Brian May). Regardless of such artistic concerns, it sounds like it may be the album to propel Mystery Jets to commercial success.

There are flashes of brilliance.