Young – the debut album by Overcoats – starts with a track called Father and then Smaller Than My Mother. “My father,” sing best friends , “understands the demons I wrestle with in my daydreams.” It happens over the smallest strains of production, a weeping and whispering snatch of electronica that makes the subsequent takedown in track two all the more surprising: “I keep on shrinking while he stays the same”.
So while the First Aid Kit comparisons are going to come in thick and fast for best buds Hana Elion an JJ Mitchell, we know at least that their words are bound to set apart more than that closely-harmonised sound. And, like their Swedish peers, there’s a resolute sense of strength in their coupling – when one joins the other on songs like 23, it’s more the propping up from a friend than a needless frill.
And they have the tunes to back up the words. Leave The Light On is the sort of handclap stomp that will make them festival darlings, and Hold Me Close is a terrific introduction to their work. The complaint is that it does feel ever so slight, with songs in the close struggling to differentiate themselves from the earlier giants.
But it’s pleasant enough, and there’s a clear chemistry at work here. Young isn’t going to reinvent the wheel for the genre nor make an immediate impact, but it’s going to be one of those slow-burn albums that will take its time to unfurl and take months to savour. No big deal though – Overcoats come across as an act that are far more comfortable in a jacket of their own worth, rather than flash any skimpy gimmick for a quick win. Give it a go.