There is an instantly familiar feel to this album but in the best conceivable way, so much so that the entire content of this review could just me sitting back and referencing the top-tier sonic nods and clear as day influences that are flying past. I will refrain from doing that, but I will shout out a few of the obvious ones, not because there should be any implication of copying, but actually because the signposts of inspiration are carried out with such class that I want folks to understand what a great album this is. So, we have a very clear Velvet Underground three chord trick swagger, a hint of early seventies Bowie glam and the kind of melody driven pop nous that bands like ELO built careers around and a singer songwriter like Elliott Smith carved out new standards in acoustic pop balladry. The song ‘Black Metal Corpse Paint’ even throws in an old Captain Beefheart album title (‘Safe As Milk’) into the lyric which I doubt very much was anything but deliberate. That said, all the tasteful hero worshipping in the world will only carry you so far if the new songs you wrap it around are not up to much. The song writing of Hollow Hand though is so strong here, everything sounds like it has been crying out for this kind of energy all along. The story of its creation features more than a few top names as well on the journey to an album named after the early‑morning bus route that ferried Hollow Hand main man Max Kinghorn-Mills to the studio. It may be a metaphor for the where he finds himself at with this fourth LP release, for ‘Wish Road South’ captures Kinghorn‑Mills stepping out of his old habits and into a looser, bolder, band‑driven future.

And so, it transpires that Hollow Hand’s new release has emerged from an encounter with reckoning for Max Kinghorn‑Mills, the man whose performing name has always been essentially a solo venture but finds itself very much in a branching out phase today. He hit a point where the songs that were sketched out for the record no longer matched the fire he felt after months on the road. Touring behind previous album ‘Your Own Adventure’ had thrown him into the orbit of other musicians; Irish bands with wild, instinctive energy, Caitlin Rose’s touring ensemble, Aoife Nessa Frances’ world, and a run of European dates with MJ Lenderman that refined his sense of what his own project could be. “The way I’ve made albums previously has usually been huddled away in the tradition of a bedroom producer,” says Kinghorn-Mills. “But with this one I expanded my horizons and it made me realise there’s so much more to playing, and being in a band, than just recording the songs.” Returning home, he realised the solitary, bedroom‑bound approach that had defined his earlier records could no longer carry him forward. So, he scrapped the half‑finished version of the album and rebuilt from the ground up, forming a tighter unit with Oliver Newton and Leo Clarke in a new Brighton studio where the songs were played into being rather than assembled in isolation. With the shift towards live tracking, shared investment, and a richer sonic palette the door flung open to a warmer, more confident record, later pushed further out by Clarence Clarity’s left‑field mixing instincts.

The record kicks off with a sound that should instantly point to the newfound audio avenues enthusiastically being explored throughout. ‘Flowers In The Garden’ is a sweet melange of hurdy gurdy bagpipe noises and drone with an anthemic, sing it from the terraces, melody resolution that truly satisfies. ‘Here Are The Tulips’ possesses some classic tension and release playing, it feeds into the major/minor electric jangle that the folk-rock genre wears in its purest form, but it is executed with such panache, the sound feels like a long-lost friend returning home. It is a gleaming little piece of pop perfection, happy sad in its progressions and simultaneously echoing so many eras and times without sounding retro for a second, I guess this means it might be operating in the realm of the timeless. The joy of plugging in and riffing on an irresistible three chord pattern is indulged in repeatedly. Even on the softer tunes like ‘Love Again,’ which offers tenderness and understanding in the lyric, is pushed on by solid, meaty strumming whilst ‘Kiss The Boot’ finds a chunky bit of abandoned Velvets gold dust to re-use with interest. There is so much more though, at times this could pass for a psych record with its distorted spoken word interludes, found sound, multi-layered string sections and general sense of mayhem prevailing, punctuated by the arrival of another shiny nugget of a song. ‘Heavy Metal T-Shirt’ is actually one of the poppiest selections here and another curve ball is thrown when ‘Drinking With Judy’ ups the energy stakes with some new wave urgency. By the time we close of ‘Green Meadows Of England,’ played out under tangibly grey skies and ‘A Gentle Place,’ a lovely baroque closer, it is blatantly obvious that the one other throwback ‘Wish Road South’ offers is its appreciably satisfying arc as an album. Add to that the absence of any weak tracks or filler and it all adds up to a mighty fine piece of work. It stands as a reminder that even in a post‑Bowie, post‑Reed, post‑Petty world, there are still artists willing to capture the spark and, on this evidence, Hollow Hand is running with the flame and holding it firmly in safe hands.

Danny Neill

Find the new Hollow Hand album via this link: https://www.hollowhand.com/