Some musicians view making music as a vocation, something that they will entirely devote their lives to, to the extent that it seeps into everything they do. Frankie & The Heartstrings don't do things by halves. In the wake of the release of The Days Run Away, their second album after 2011's Hunger, they've opened a pop-up record shop in their native Sunderland and, similar to everyone's favourite Charlatan, they've also started brewing their own coffee. It would be too easy to put this down to clever marketing, with Frankie & The Heartstrings you get the unshakable impression that everything they do is out of genuine desire and self-belief, not as an attempt to further their profile.
Radio-friendly opener "I Still Follow You" is a particular highlight, the catchy hooks and infectious "nanana"'s will be embedded in your brain after one listen. It feels as though it's a song you've known all your life, and is instantly likable."That Girl, That Scene" channels The Ramones, underpinned with jagged guitars sounding like it could be the soundtrack to every London indie club night. As Frankie cheerily sings "I've become all the things you hated/ I go out every night and I get wasted" you get the impression that the song is an ode to not giving a fuck. The song is a welcome celebration of pissing someone off but having too much fun to care.
In "The First Boy" the protagonist wants to be "the first boy that you see." The soaring pleading vocals could be construed as being concerned with a girl, when in fact most the of song's concerns are inward. Littered with "I want"'s and "I never"'s the song is transformed from a lovesong into one about the protagonist's own regrets. The punchy, frenetic music that accompanies the vocals belie the emotive, almost mournful lyrics, and shows Frankie & The Heartstrings at their best.
Closing track "Light That Breaks" features a collaboration with Let's Buy Happiness frontwoman Sarah Hall. When the chorus hits this string-laden song Frankie and Sarah's vocals team up and soar above the music, creating a more sincere and charged atmosphere than some of the pure pop forerunners present on The Days Run Away.
The Days Run Away is a varied album; the jangly, inoffensive "All the Right Noises" sits alongside the sparse ballad "Losing a Friend" comfortably. Lyrically the album shines, showing an impressive talent for telling one story with the music and another with the lyrics, while musically the variation from crashing cymbals and hooky guitars to more reserved, timid and quiet songs make this album hard to ignore. There's rollicking drums beats for when you want to dance, and lovesick balladry for when you want to cry into your cup of Days Run Away coffee.
