So apparently Rolling Stone "fucking LOVE The Playwrights". I don’t know if I would go so far as to use an expletive to convey the amount of enjoyment attainable from a listen to The Playwrights’s album English Self Storage, but I have to admit that if the note I sent them asking them if they liked me came back with a check in the "NO" box, I would probably end up crying myself to sleep.

What makes The Playwrights worthy of all this child-like crushing? Well, for one, Aaron Dewey’s vocals are what could be described as "dreamy". Sure this may be due in part to that English accent (The Playwrights hail from Bristol), but for me it has more to do with his ability to strongly convey emotion and energy while at the same time sounding rather cool about it. During the choruses of "Fear Of Open Spaces" where even I, PhiLL Ramey, rather subdued listener, am tempted to shout along:

There are panes of glass between you and me,
Lead, brick, tile, electrical circuitry.
My hometown has pulled me down.
My background seeped further into background.

Dewey leaves the straining/shouting for the backing vocal track while maintaining his self-assured disposition.

Of course it takes more than just pleasing vocals to elicit the type of fondness expressed in the opening paragraph. Thanks to the rhythm section of Tom Mills (drums) and Hector Peebles (bass), English Self Storage maintains a steady pace throughout – the instrumental equivalent of Dewey’s cool demeanor. With their playing covering a wide range including jangly chords, crisp arpeggios, and noisy tremolos, Guitarists Nathan Edmunds and Benjamin Shillabeer along with the occasional guest musician – James Banbury (cello, theremin), Suzi Gage (flute), Virpi Kettu (violin) – add the dramatic inflections that in combination with Dewey’s vocals and the rhythm section’s steady playing makes The Playwright’s and English Self Storage worth your love.