7/10

There’s something beautifully unfashionable about the way Kenton Hall writes songs. At a time when so much modern indie-pop is obsessed with aesthetic minimalism and emotional vagueness, 'Songs for the Swung' arrives bursting with personality, literary detail, bruised humour, and the kind of melodic ambition that feels increasingly rare.

Over these last few years, the artist has quietly built one of the most intriguing catalogues operating beneath the surface of the UK underground. Following the sprawling emotional chaos of 'Idiopath', this latest release feels more focused without losing any of the emotional richness that made its predecessor so compelling. Where that earlier project resembled emotional overload captured in real time, 'Songs for the Swung' feels like the difficult morning after; clearer-headed perhaps, but still carrying all the scars underneath.

What immediately stands out is the sheer warmth radiating through these arrangements. Echoes of Elvis Costello, The Divine Comedy and Rufus Wainwright drift through the album’s DNA, yet he never feels trapped by his influences. He reshapes those grand chamber-pop instincts into something deeply personal and quietly ragged around the edges.

Tracks like the opener 'The Sun Shone Down' shimmer with weary optimism, balancing soaring melodies against lyrics that still carry the emotional exhaustion of someone slowly rebuilding themselves. It’s one of the album’s defining moments; a song that captures relief without pretending life has suddenly become easy again.

But what makes 'Songs for the Swung' resonate so strongly is its refusal to separate melancholy from joy. Hall understands that the two often exist side by side. Even the brighter moments here carry traces of exhaustion beneath them, while the heavier songs are constantly illuminated by wit, warmth, or melodic beauty.

By the time closer 'Strangely, I’m Feeling Much Better Today' arrives, Kenton Hall offers cautious hope, and honestly, that lands even harder.