Just Mustard - We Were Just Here

Just Mustard used to pull you into a weather system and let you find the shapes later. On 'We Were Just Here', the order flips. First the architecture, then the atmosphere. Rhythm is built like a load-bearing frame; bass and kick decide the route; everything else arrives as pressure, heat, draught.

You hear the change in how the voice is treated. Katie Ball isn't a texture this time; she's the reference point. The title track walks on a patient, pulse-led groove and never breaks stride, her refrain set above it like a marker light. The sensation remains a mix of dread and beauty, but the delivery is different: forward motion instead of a slow dissolve.

'Endless Deathless' takes that rule and plays with it. The beat lays the floor, the edges smear with echo and fuzz, then the picture snaps back. Ball has called it an "existential love song", and the production behaves accordingly - rush and ache sharing space without either smothering the other. 'Silver' pushes further out front; the pacing is almost motorik, repetition carving a lane the way headlights do on a night road.

What holds the record together is proportion. Arrangements interlock rather than pile up. Tones lean into each other until the line between guitar and synth stops mattering. The fog hasn't gone; it's ventilated. You feel the room as well as the weather: the air around a hi-hat, the after-touch on a sustained note, the breath before a phrase.

It's not a pivot for the sake of it. It's a confidence that a firm low end and a clear line can carry the same unease the band once buried in the blend - and that letting the centre be seen won't drain the mystery. 'We Were Just Here' keeps the chest cavity humming while the spotlight finds the figure at the core.