Easy Life - Maybe in Another Life… review: Rich music let down by cheap lyrics

Like Rex Orange County, Easy Life operate in the unlikely nook where unassuming British indie lads meet woozy US hip hop. The Leicester quintet release mixtapes as well as albums, have got crisp beats and quirky sonic touches, and bandleader Murray Matravers flits between a barely-trying croon and something adjacent to rapping. On Beeswax, late on in this second album, he namedrops both Jay-Z and The Great British Bake Off a line apart. The group are significant enough to fly Kevin Abstract of American rap crew Brockhampton out to join them on the main stage at Glastonbury, but not significant enough for him to take the trouble to remember his lines.

As the band name suggests, this summer’s embarrassing moment is unlikely to have riled them. Their horizontal music is best experienced in a hammock, and they tend to give the impression that any success to date has been a happy accident, though it surely takes some level of competence to send a debut album to number two and attract fans to a February tour that will feature major venues including Alexandra Palace and an arena in Nottingham. “I’d be running this jungle if I’d only got dressed,” Matravers says in a sing-song rap on Basement. Calling In Sick finds him on the 7am morning commute, but he hasn’t joined the rat race. He’s pushed a night out too far.

Musically, the backdrop has expanded into something richer and more layered. Crocodile Tears adds angelic backing vocals to a confident piano line. There are vibrant trumpets, cut-up vocal samples, meandering synth lines and even, on Moral Support, some wobbly surf guitar. It’s all so casually genre-fluid that Spotify’s algorithm will no doubt throw its sunny sounds onto any number of playlists.

Unfortunately Matravers’ plan to give the impression he isn’t putting in much effort also extends to his lyrics, which reach too easily for clichés or lines heard elsewhere. “But I’m wrong to assume/I’ve made an ass out of me and you,” he says on Crocodile Tears. “I can tell that you’re lying ‘cause your lips are moving.” On OTT he advises: “Just try to keep your head above water.”

They’re stronger when they have something of substance to write about. The closing song, Fortune Cookie, is an encouraging ballad for the fragile: “If you believe you’re in need of repair, take care,” Matravers repeats. At times like this, he’s perfectly pleasant company.

(Island)