Head here to submit your own review of this album.

'Pushing things forward' or innovation seems to be the preoccupation of music journalists and the people over at the Drowned In Sound forums. I have the feeling that the majority of people who actually listen to music or make music don't really care. Some of my favourite records over the last few years have been unashamedly backward-looking and some of them haven't. Y'know? Who cares? It's all part of life's rich tapestry. This obsession with breaking new ground just comes across as prefect-y. While you're writing articles about derivative music and pontificating on nostalgia, everyone else is just getting on with it and maybe stumbling on something new in the process. This isn't an anti music-journalism rant... I'm a big ball of contradiction, but that's too much.

So, nepotism... I must declare some interest in this review. I've never been taken out to dinner by Blueprint Blue's PR and I've never done drugs with the band in east London. My bandmate Conan Roberts is releasing this record on his label Italian Beach Babes and that's as far as it goes. I've never written about any of his releases before and I may never again.

So... this Blueprint Blue record is a trip. Four tracks. Nearly 30 minutes long. It wears its influences on its sleeve like nothing I've heard in a long time. It feels like a sprawling collage of found photos, painstakingly constructed into a personal manifesto. A love poem dictated across decades... Blueprint Blue are both Christian de Neuvillette and Cyrano... I don't know. It's weird, but in an east London music scene saturated with bands that could generously described as 'slapdash', Blueprint Blue's musicianship is like lemonade and the whole thing is drowned in joy and enthusiasm. Infectious and refreshing.

To move forward you have to look back, so surely looking forward is just looking back? Maybe? Who knows. This is great.

This is the place you'll find reviews from 405 Readers. To join in, head here.