So, for once pop-pickers, TLOBF isn't early with the scoop. Blame me, but then unfortunately ordinary life does get in the way of this reviewing lark from time to time. Skimming a few other (largely broadsheet i.e. free on the interweb) write-ups in the mean time, I found opinions of this latest from The View have fluctuated wildly from oafs hopelessly reaching way beyond themselves to a milestone experimental magnum opus. In keeping with the spirit of the original meaning of 'the line of best fit', the truth, if rather predictably, lies somewhere in the middle of this scattershot of results.Along with the Arctic Monkeys, The View were about the only chart-friendly indie (whatever that now means) guitar band that I had much time for. Whether they were actually as irrelevant as the likes of Scouting For Girls as far as cool opinion was concerned I had and have not a care. A stand-out rasping vocalist, a band belting out energy packed 100-words-a-minute knees-ups: some Dundee scallies racing through the back alleyways with libertine aspirations (with and without the capital 'L'). What's to over-analyse? The debauched tour stories I could excuse as youthful excess as long as it didn't extend past a phase into a painfully forced Neanderthal posturing (are you listening Gallagher brothers?). That's what a Roman Catholic education does for you after all. If all felt like a suitably grubby soundtrack for Shameless rather than those brats from Skins, with witty lyrics and catchy as hell riffs. That said, four days in the same 'trews' doesn't seem all that much to bang on about: as a kid of The Undertones generation I was used to one bath a week whether you needed it or not. Indeed that band was the kind of template I could see them following. Was this now going to be their Julie Ocean moment?One of the best things about The View is that their accents make them unlikely to ever make it big in the US (Kyle Falconer's drugs bust won't help with visa applications either) ”“ they might as well be categorised as ‘world music’. This may have allowed them an escape from the record company pressure to conform for that market, possibly even allowing this very album to emerge in the form it has. The View give every impression of being the sort of band who would greet the "difficult second album" with a swift "Bollocks to that" and get straight on with it. But no, they did loose their mad-for-it mojo for a while, which explains the relatively large gap following on from the debut before being shepherded to Monmouth to record with Owen Morris again. Gratifyingly they have emerged with a more expansive and almost celebratory spin on life that should see them steering clear of completely pissing their talent away. It to be hoped that lines scattered through the album like “Living on them pills lying in squalor / That’s the life of the late night bar crawler”, “Done a lot of growing up in this last year”, “It’s the realisation you’re not ten feet tall, the realisation you don’t know it all”, and (the blander) "This is your life don't waste it", hint at having dealt with some of their own issues and a passing on of ‘been there done that’ advice rather than mere rhyming hypocrisy.'Temptation Dice', 'Double Yellow Lines' and 'Shock Horror' are all as raucously infectious as you might expect. The latter only deserving criticism for letting Kyle Falconer's hoarse shouts fade away under the guitars in the mix at the climax when it should be piercingly to the fore. The initial killer single '5 Rebeccas' tops them all though, somewhat mysteriously only grazing the underside of the charts late last year. 'Glass Smash' is pure strutting McClash, if not quite hitting the spot ”“ like ‘One Off Pretender' sounding a bit jaded: by-the-numbers indie even if with the View the lyrics are always worthy of inspection. 'Jimmy's Shameless Conspiracy' is the most poppy with brightening brass section loving up the chorus. ‘Give Back The Sun’ is similarly breezy but only truly notable for its girly backing vocals concealing a tale of dark goings on in Camden, and ‘Realisation’ has a recorder intro in another upbeat but less full on song.But it's the odd-balls that attract attention. From the very off, we get a harmonica and chopsticks piano ditty - throwaway but endearing, and a sign post that something different (at least in patches) is about to unfold. Later, 'Unexpected' smacks of falling too easily into the trap of believing that acoustic guitar + orchestra = meaningful statement, but the change of direction is welcome even if the song is ultimately less than top notch. It would have been more interesting naked without any orchestration to truly expose Falconers raw voice ”“ he is singing about the death of his father after all. Violins aren’t going to fill in any more emotion there. Strangest of all though is ‘Distant Doubloon’ ”“ Dundee gets a Kurt Weill pirate makeover with The View painting cameos of local characters to an orchestral backdrop apparently inspired by Mahler. All attributable to childhood musical (as in Rogers & Hammerstein etc.) influences. Mid album, Paolo Nutini pops in from the studio next-door and indulges in a my-accent-is-thicker-than-your-accent duel with Falconer on ‘Covers’. It sounds like two drunks perched on a wall having a sing-song in the wee small hours over acoustic guitars and lazy trumpet i.e all over the place, but it has grown on me considerably. The final track ‘Gem Of A Bird’ is an acoustic council estate sonnet; a closing time lullaby that a tipsy The Beautiful South might have thrown together. It takes us almost full circle.The impression that remains is of a quirky hit-and-miss affair reminiscent of a noughties answer to The Faces. Terrace chant rockers mingle with sly quirky British humour and street level despair with slipshod, often shambolic, sweet sentimentality. The misses can be greeted with a cheery nod of 'worth trying lads’, and are hard to actively dislike. Without them the album would be terminally single paced. The verdict then: whatever is going on here (and I’m not exactly sure myself) is to be applauded, and I’m sticking to my previous stance of a slightly uncommitted thumbs up for The View. OK, so that’s not a wholehearted recommendation to buy if you're not already a fan (or prone to bouts of political correctness), but there is a lot to like. Let the jaunty chaos continue, though probably with a bit less vodka this time around for everyone’s sake. 71%The View on MySpace