Upon outing himself as the person behind MINKS, Sean Kilfoyle spoke of his desire to create an album that makes you “feel something”. Such a statement could lead you to expecting to hear the sound of a man bearing his soul on record. Yet, once you’ve pressed play you sense he isn’t trying to draw out any particular emotion, instead allowing the listener to decide where they wish to be taken in that space and time.

Sure, there’s a good dose of gloom distilled in Kilfoyle’s dispirited vocals but they are often at odds with the guitar lines, which don’t quite chirp mirthfully but help alleviate some of the pessimism. Kilfoyle has an accomplice in Amalie Bruun whose angelic tones inject a freshness into the pallid harmonies whilst still managing to resist the usual girl/boy saccharinity. Bruun really leaves her mark on the record in ‘Arboretum Dogs’ where her serene vocals take prominence and float elegantly above some seemly strumming. In turn, it feels like a shift away from the mid-80s inspired guitar-pop which fills the bulk of the record, of which MINKS have managed to build an identity over and above the lo-fi tag.

MINKS, however, is the brainchild of Kilfoyle who penned all the tracks himself before calling on some talented friends to bring them to life in the studio. Initial release ‘Funeral Song’ captured the imagination by declaring: “So long summertime/Not coming back,” just as we were entering June. But rather than being a song confined to the ears of those who scorn the sunnier months, it left you longing for summers gone by. By the Hedge in the main, though, feels like an autumn fading into winter record with its hazy soundscapes easy to get lost in. The drawback to such an approach being that some of the tracks themselves lose a salience as neither guitar or vocals come to the fore. However, there is still plenty here to hold your attention.

‘Kusmi’ sets the tone with its woozy blend of vocals and keyboards combining effortlessly, causing an onset of warm lethargy to fill your bones. ‘Indian Ocean’ showcases MINKS’ ability to turn a little into a lot as the entirely instrumental track twists its way into focus. ‘Cemetary Rain’ – spelt incorrectly for what I can only assume is phoneme convenience – carried by a strong bass line, is drowned in dejection before being lifted by some mollifying guitar chimes. Another stand-out song is ‘Ophelia’, which proves to be one of the few tracks on the album where almost all the lyrics can be deciphered. Echoing vocals once again conflict with the instrumental backing before coming together in harmony for the chorus.

By the Hedge displays an impressive coherence without having to rely on reverb and dirty production values to do so. Whilst at times the record struggles to impose itself, a strong sense of direction will ensure MINKS are not simply thrown in with the dense pool of lo-fi acts struggling to get their head above water.