8/10
Two years on from their debut, Manchester's Marouli have returned with a second album that feels both familiar and surprisingly bold. 'Tall Tales From A Distant Uncle (Volume 2)' finds the quintet leaning further into their genre-splicing instincts, crafting a 13-track collection that refuses to sit still.
Opener 'What Goes Up Must Come Down' immediately signals intent with a groove that channels Toto's 'Rosanna'—all crisp snares and buoyant keyboards that set an unexpectedly uplifting tone. It's an interesting choice for a record born from such difficult circumstances—frontman Graham McCusker penned much of this during his second cancer diagnosis—but there's clearly no interest in wallowing here.
The album's real strength lies in its dynamic range. 'Moonwalking' dials everything back to skeletal piano lines and hazy atmospherics, content to simmer rather than boil. It's the kind of late-night number that demands a dimly lit room and a decent whiskey. Then there's 'Bovine Friend', which arrives like someone's switched on every light in the house at once. Those opening bells and clocks set an eerie tone before the whole thing explodes into life—think Gabriel-era art-pop meeting Elbow's orchestral heft, with brass flourishes that know exactly when to punch and when to caress.
What's impressive is how producer Danny Allin has corralled sessions across three cities into something cohesive. The album sprawls across 13 tracks including two interludes, yet never feels bloated. There's a looseness to the performances—particularly in the horn arrangements courtesy of guest players—that suggests a band genuinely enjoying themselves rather than labouring over every note.
McCusker has cited Billy Connolly's storytelling as inspiration, aiming for each song to capture a "wee miniature moment". It's an apt comparison: these tracks unfold with a raconteur's timing, knowing when to lean in and when to let silence do the work. The core five-piece clearly has chemistry, bolstered by session heavyweights who bring genuine texture without overwhelming the band's identity.
In an era where most bands seem terrified of committing to anything beyond three minutes and a catchy hook, Marouli's willingness to wander down unexpected paths feels genuinely refreshing. This is music made by people who actually listen to albums, for people who still do the same.
Stream the full collection below
