Nux Vomica

Doomed romantics are not in short supply at the moment, but even in a field as crowded as this, The Veils stand aloof and apart. Quite a turnaround considering that, just two years ago, the London-based four-piece, led by the tautly cheekboned Finn Andrews, were considered indie-pop pin-ups, feted by Smash Hits and loathed by their target constituency of deeply serious young men.
What sets The Veils apart from the mainstream of the youthful and artfully pallid is Andrews’ knack for evoking raw, wrenching misery. From the cover – the singer poses Pete Doherty style in pork-pie hat, but does not seem particularly pleased to be there – to the project’s dark gloss of strings and pianos, Nux Vomica, their second LP, is that rarity in contemporary British rock: a downbeat album that doesn’t lose its nerve and toss in some pop songs to leaven the misery.
A long dark night of the soul etched tenderly in pedal steel, mandolin and acoustic guitar, Nux Vomica has been likened to Stuart Staples of Tindersticks as backed by The Bad Seeds. That, however, is to undersell Andrews’ facility for waxing darkly and passionately : ‘Jesus For The Jugular’ is the sound of chamber pop gone terribly amiss; ‘Not Yet’ feels dreamy, then nightmarish. Sending cold thrills down your spine, Nux Vomica is nothing less than the year’s most uplifting comedown record.