10 Songs, 52 Minutes

EDITORS’ NOTES

“But there’s a fortune to be had/From telling people you’re sad,” Bill Ryder-Jones sings on pensive opener “There’s Something on Your Mind”. As sardonic as that lyric is, the former Coral guitarist has said he writes better songs when he’s unhappy—and his solo career has been a compelling testament to that. After 2011’s If…, an orchestral score inspired by Italian novelist Italo Calvino’s If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller, he retired to his old bedroom in his mother’s house to record the hushed, soul-baring folk of 2013’s A Bad Wind Blows in My Heart before adding ’90s alt-rock to the palette for West Kirby County Primary in 2015.
On Yawn, he kneads that mix into beautiful, expansive reflections on loss and regret. Softly struck drums and sighing cellos accompany hypnotically persistent guitar riffs as each track unfolds carefully and slowly—sorrow this unresolved takes time to express. His words are candid, occasionally barbed and witty: “I remember what we did and when/And the smell of your breath/And even all the names of your d*ckhead friends” (“Time Will Be the Only Saviour”). With his fractured whisper, Ryder-Jones draws you so intimately into his world that it’s startling to finally hear another voice glide into the background of “John”.

Parental Advisory Explicit Content Mastered for iTunes

EDITORS’ NOTES

“But there’s a fortune to be had/From telling people you’re sad,” Bill Ryder-Jones sings on pensive opener “There’s Something on Your Mind”. As sardonic as that lyric is, the former Coral guitarist has said he writes better songs when he’s unhappy—and his solo career has been a compelling testament to that. After 2011’s If…, an orchestral score inspired by Italian novelist Italo Calvino’s If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller, he retired to his old bedroom in his mother’s house to record the hushed, soul-baring folk of 2013’s A Bad Wind Blows in My Heart before adding ’90s alt-rock to the palette for West Kirby County Primary in 2015.
On Yawn, he kneads that mix into beautiful, expansive reflections on loss and regret. Softly struck drums and sighing cellos accompany hypnotically persistent guitar riffs as each track unfolds carefully and slowly—sorrow this unresolved takes time to express. His words are candid, occasionally barbed and witty: “I remember what we did and when/And the smell of your breath/And even all the names of your d*ckhead friends” (“Time Will Be the Only Saviour”). With his fractured whisper, Ryder-Jones draws you so intimately into his world that it’s startling to finally hear another voice glide into the background of “John”.

Parental Advisory Explicit Content Mastered for iTunes
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Ratings and Reviews

whereisindy ,

Existential Flux.

BR-J’s 4th mostly self-produced album is the almost perfect embodiment of dreaminess. The complete encyclopaedic volume of dreaming and isolation; simply put this is a strong and lyrically sublime album that has not been written for gain or acclaim. Where his last work explored themes about his personal life, home life and home town, here he ups the beats and riffs with a raw finesse. There’s much more flow and power in the songs, swapping the more moody blues with a kind of pragmatic hope. He drops moments of grungey undertones with an anthemic twist. Bill very much builds the sound around his songs better than most. He gets to the heart and point of each song, providing an emotionally driven sound to anchor the listener. He then uses his hush-tone and his unique vocal texture to lure in the listener with his point. Whether relying on the opening crescendo sounds or his voice, either of which instantly grounds the listener. This feels like a one-on-one sit down with Bill, regaling in import stories over the last few years. Most of the songs Bill has achieved with this album have done something more than that of his previous works - he is able to give the listener a real sense of the vulnerability and ethereal nature of himself in song form that is tangible. You can literally feel every word and every sound and it invokes the exact response he desires. Bill also exercises his vocal cadences with unique twangs that carry so much weight of each word, where his years of practice has shown he is amply able to punctuate. And do be unassuaged; this is Bill down to a key, and then sometimes it’s not, it jumps into what can only be described as existential flux of which his contemporaries are still struggling to obtain and match his lyrical and emotional echelon. It’s a memoir; It's not for easy-listening. It's not for that Saturday morning early drive for an adventure or weekend getaway with a loved one, it’s about melancholia, honest and brutal situations that give rise to disassociation and happiness. His focus is exactly that - focus on the truths and honesty of the situations and it’s succinct, final and permanent.

Patroller ,

Made for sharing?

No doubting the guys skill as a writer of sublime tunes and sophisticated lyrics, but jeez, these songs deserve a better delivery than his minimal, disaffected drawl.
It’s not cool, it’s as selfish as a footy player keeping the ball to himself in the hope of scoring a goal.
Sometimes perfection comes from teamwork.
And this album sorely needs it!
A shame, left me somewhat cold.

Donnay Boy ,

Nice, but familiar.

Some great tunes, but this is essentially a Red House Painters tribute album.

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