It may or may not have to do with the success of Mumford and Sons but we are currently being treated to a wave of mandolin chugging would-be stadium rockers, of which LA’s Dawes are among the more hyped. They certainly know what they’re about. On album number three, they present a carefully calibrated mix of West Coast FM rock and yearning folk – think The Lumineers with an unshakeable crush on The Eagles.
Slathered in sun-dappled melodies, songs such as ‘Just Beneath The Surface’ and ‘From A Window Seat’ traffic in the requisite wide eyedness, though, with repeated exposure, the sharp angles start to poke through and the unwavering cheerfulness doesn’t quite seem to add up. Relentlessly upbeat to a degree that worries someone like me, Dawes and their peers represent an evolutionary dead end for rock music – a place where the default emotional setting is a sort of Stepford-esque pretend-happy. The ultimate goal of such bands, it seems, is to bring a silly grin to your face. Which is fine some of the time. But not all of the time.

Key Track: 'Just Beneath the Surface'