Monsters Build Mean Robots is not a name that inspires confidence in hearing much beyond the kind of facsimile post-rock by numbers being pumped out by a slew of other such ridiculously monikered groups ( see also: the silly album title). So my hopes were not high for this Brighton quartet’s second album and, for the most part, this expectation is well founded. Despite added vocals the tracks tread a well worn path of fluttery guitars which swell to climactic firework endings. It would be easy to disregard this as nothing more than hollow pastiche but after a few more spins there is a little bit more which often helps to elevate MBMR above the pack.

The opening track features all the constituent parts of generic post-rock whilst also incorporating the glitchy pitter patter of electronic beats which recall 65daysofstatic and drive the track along nicely, providing a counterpoint to the more classical timbre of the guitar. On top of that is the brooding and solemn tone of Pete Lambrou’s vocals which give something to hold attention whilst waiting for the inevitable climax. The clarity of production on the tracks is pretty compelling, each note exhaling long and encumbered, with the perfect measure of breathing space. It’s a shame then that that soaring crescendo I had been waiting for feels painfully engineered and lacks any of the gravitas or emotion it seems designed to provoke.

The siren like opening of ‘Lament 77 (We Will Follow!)’ signals the arrival of a much more potent force, as a pulsating bass line and rolling drums push towards chanted harmonies which are genuinely rousing and recall Yndi Halda at their most galvanizing. On this instance it feels organic but really they could more often do with holding back on the ‘big moment’ in order to avoid a sense of crushing predictability. ‘The Witches and The Liars’ on the other hand holds back too much, with the full first five of its seven minutes being utterly inconsequential; a track which epitomises the slow, rambling nothingness and the ‘it’s okay though because they’ve added a loud bit at the end!’ attitude which has sullied perception of the genre. Musically ‘A Reverie For The Riots’ is more of the same Godspeed tossing of Sigur Rós type nonsense, but is again considerably redeemed by Lambrou’s vocals which plug the quiet sections with a touch of humility amongst all the pomp.

In their more upbeat and relatively accessible (tracks lasting less than seven minutes) moments such as ‘Psalm 57’ the group come across as a simlar proposition as the now defunct Fields were, or as Spokes and I Like Trains are now. That being a group with an often pedestrian indie rock dynamic whose dalliances with more experimental structures and over zealous use of harmonised vocals give them the ability to show flashes of inspiration. Snippets of this record do transcend its lack of character and hint at a much better band lurking beneath the heavy handed influences, but whether or not they’ll be able to escape those remains to be seen and for now this kind of stuff has been done better a hundred times before.