The Hundred In The Hands - Red Night

The self-titled debut record from The Hundred In The Hands felt somewhat unfairly overlooked, which is a shame - its mix of instant, infectious post-punk anthems and atmospheric electro-pop proved to have definite staying power. Eleanore Everdell and Jason Friedman now return with their second album Red Night, a record that is, by their own admission, informed by both their surroundings and their own tumultuous relationship. The decision to self-produce the record may have put a nearly unbearable strain on the couple, but it seems like the end result has made all the heartache worthwhile.

The band's intent to capture the sounds of the city at night is made clear from 'Empty Stations'' ominous opening, which gives way to skittering beats and a bassline that hums with menace - its panicked, oppressive feel makes it sound very distinct from anything the band have done before, but it's perfectly evocative of the kind of sensory overload that a neon-lit, buzzing city has to offer. 'Tunnels' is another track that feels like perfect night music, its relentless, jittering rhythms bursting into glorious widescreen arrangements in all the right places.

'Recognise', on the other hand, feels more familiar, contrasting sun-kissed guitars with melancholy vocals, and 'Come With Me' takes the same jagged riffs that defined 'Dressed In Dresden' and propels them forward at a speed that matches the urgency present in the lyrics. But if you're a fan of their previous work and looking for a jumping-off point then 'Keep It Low' is your best bet - it's certainly the most instantly appealing track here, thanks to its danceable rhythm, booming synths and playful hooks.

'Keep It Low' also represents the emotional high point of the record, framing two wide-eyed souls deeply in love with each other and the city they live in, losing track of time as they explore the night - "Under solid black skies/Wide awake I/Don't want to go home/We sink under/Kiss in the tunnels." On the whole though, the lyrics are more troubled - 'SF Summer' sees dreams of escapism tempered by fear ("Is Paris too far?/Would we miss New York?"), while elsewhere the tone switches between defiance ('Empty Stations'), resignation ('Recognise') and desperation ('Come With Me', 'Stay The Night').

But while the record does a good job of stirring up emotions throughout, there's one track that stands head and shoulders above the rest. 'Faded' is stunning in its minimalism, coming across like an emotionally devastated version of The xx - throbbing bass and chiming bells providing a sparse backdrop to to Jason's lonely, finger-picked guitar and Eleanor's distant, utterly heartbroken vocal.

If the band are guilty of making any major mis-steps here, it's letting their songs run on a little too long in places. 'Red Night' is pleasantly woozy and hypnotic, but the fact that it spends six minutes not really going anywhere makes it difficult to get excited about. 'Stay The Night' fares better by building a mesmerisingly dense atmosphere via its shuddering synths, but it still feels like the song would benefit from being a little more succinct.

Ultimately, however, Red Night succeeds in capturing both the nocturnal cityscapes and the emotional conflict that its creators experienced, and the redemptive 'Lead In The Light' brings the record to a fitting close. Its swirling synth crescendo echoes the sound of dawn breaking on bleary eyes, and the love that was so nearly lost is ultimately saved by the album's very final line - "I will stay with you." It's a sentiment that can be applied to this collection of songs as a whole - give it the chance to wrap itself around your heart and mind, and Red Night will become the kind of record that you'll want to stay with for a long time.