The biting and sullen ferocity (albums like Number Thirteen and In The Golden Autumn) is mostly past; this Martin Newell is sweeter, leaning into gentleness. His hushed balladry really flourishes in a new way. Wedding Band is stunning. He still gets jaunty though, and I think Postcards To Heaven is among his very best work, carrying on with his wistful, autumnal, haunted-by-the-60s thing, but funny and sad in its own singular way.
