World, You Need A Change Of Mind is a funny title for the debut record from Britain’s first fully established chillwave connoisseur, Kindness. It’s a bold statement, for one: who’s to say that the entire world - all seven billion plus of us us - need a change of mind? Who’s to imply that we’ve been doing it wrong this entire time? Perhaps in some aspects, yes – of course, so-called chart music in Britain can be (and is most of the time) questionable - but it feels like the project’s leading man, Adam Bainbridge, is addressing the wrong audience here. It’s as if he feels that this record is something new, something that’s been designed to really take the world by storm and make us stop in our tracks and declare that the photographer-come-producer’s album is as timeless to the British public as ABBA’s greatest hits. The fact is, at the end of the day, that this is another stab at fleshing-out the chillwave body and bringing it to a greater audience. It has to be commended in some respect: Britain has yet to have its answer to Washed Out and Toro y Moi et al, and in some respects, Bainbridge is it (just look at that album cover, you can just see the LP taking centre stage in Urban Outfitter’s ‘vinyl section’) – but he’s sincerely wrong if he think’s he’s doing anything remotely new with the sounds he toys with.

What Bainbridge lacks in originality however, he makes up for in craftsmanship. If you pull apart the curtains of pretentiousness, you’re left with a window looking out onto the kind of beach you’ll find on Google Images if you simply use the search term ‘beach’. The kind with ridiculously blue skies; impeccable sand and the obligatory, isolated, pinnacle of a palm tree – the perfect metaphor for Bainbridge himself. It’s undeniably a lush record in places, shining with Balearic beats, vintage fuzz and funky slapbass. ‘Gee Up’ is one of these highlights – this track has a bassline so ridiculously groovy that I don’t believe any writer can do it justice; it simply has to be heard. But infuriatingly, the track comes in at a criminal length of one minute and forty-six seconds – just as it was getting brilliant.

Bainbridge definitely has a weakness in recognizing his own strengths. ‘That’s Alright’, another of the album’s high points, takes about two minutes to get to the good part, but when it does - boy does it soar. The track pulls you in with silky smooth female vocals juxtaposed with a towering beat, 80s-disco-esque bass and a hook big enough to reel you back in time and time again. This is the kind of music that should be dominating the charts and clubs of today, and the kind of message that Bainbridge should be sending with his album title. It’s just a shame that these gems are so few and far between. There’s elements of it in the closing track ‘Doigsong’, but by that time it’s too little, too late.

‘Swingin Party’ is the prime example of filler here. It’s the second track in, and should be crucial to you pursuing with the rest of the record. Although it has a nice jangly, thumpy bass in conjunction with Bainbridge’s ethereal vocal and a warm, blissful hiss that evokes nothing but the image of waves gently lapping over your toes - it never really goes anywhere. You’ve heard it all before – Neon Indian, Memory Tapes, Blackbird Blackbird… need I say more?

If you simply just can’t get enough of sunkissed, wishy-washy, tie-dyed sun-in-your-eyes chillwave, it’s hard to go wrong with Kindness. After all, Bainbridge is clearly a great producer and what he does with these sounds he does well - it’s just all been done before. It’s tired. Instead, what I’d like to hear from him in the future is more of what makes him unique – his understanding of disco and funk and what makes us dance; his unquestionable ability to get your body moving and a desire to change the minds of audiences all across the globe. Kindness could make clubbing on a Saturday night bearable again – he just choses not to.