Distance Inbetween

Ultimately, Distance Inbetween can’t quite summon the dominant golden theme that infused Butterfly House. But in other ways, this endlessly fascinating band have gone one step further, demonstrating that a love of Chris Isaak, ‘70s American driving music, David Lynch dreamscapes, Question Mark and the Mysterians, and Eastern drone can still find a place for listening in the noise factory of 2016. Highly recommended.

Perhaps the greatest surprise is that, 14 years after their debut, The Coral are capable of producing their best work.

Distance Inbetween is by some distance the Coral's most muscular offering.

Unlike a lot of bands that seem to reunite just to cash in or repeat the past, the Coral came back with a renewed focus and a new sound. That's impressive in itself, and resulted in one of the band's best albums to date.

Distance Inbetween is a cohesive, imaginative psych-rock record that grows with every listen. Welcome back, boys.

The lyrics do, very occasionally, feel a bit phoned in--does a holy revelation really have to be such a sweet sensation?--but that’s a minor quibble about an album this purposeful and tense.

Heavier, weirder and bleaker than anything they've released, Distance Inbetween is weighty but never hard work. [Apr 2016, p.84]

Ultimately, The Coral aren't doing anything they haven't done before, but the greatness of these songs is undeniable and the production is slyly inventive enough to to keep us hooked. [Apr 2016, p.115]

The garbled way in which The Coral piece these disparate elements together creates an odd, timeless and cosmic music, buzzing with energy, and very much their own. [Apr 2016, p.80]

Envisioning sci-fi detective themes (Chasing The Tail Of A Dream), mariachi manhunts (It’s You) and Wall-E Of Arabia (Connector), it’s an imaginative if one-level album, animating only for the scuzzy motorik blues pop of Million Eyes, Fear Machine and Holy Revelation or the crisp, catchy psych-pop of Miss Fortune.

With its Krautrock-tinged rhythm, backwards guitar and soaring chorus, it suggests that this rested and revitalised incarnation of The Coral still has plenty to offer. Having grown tired, their enthusiasm is audibly restored.

It is good to have The Coral back, and while Distance Inbetween may not find them consistently hitting the songwriting heights it does consistently impress with the quality of its musical delivery and the authenticity of James Skelly’s vocals.

It's a strong departure from the more sedate haunted seaside sounds of their last album, Butterfly House. It’s the sound of a band revitalised after a five-year-hiatus, ready to conquer the world once again.

Distance Inbetween may not be the renaissance one would have hoped for and is a much more straightforward record than expected but there’s enough here to suggest their next record will be worth listening to.

There's enough here to keep diehard Coral heads satisfied, but a little more of the band's mercurial waywardness would've been welcome. [No. 130, p.55]

The extra girth suits them well, and their old wit and twinkle hasn’t deserted them as the shimmering, harmony-laden pop of Miss Fortune attests.