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Whether influenced by the city's post punk and Madchester periods, or something more intangible such as the spiritual vestiges of the Industrial Revolution, when it comes to Manchester it's often been the case that guitar bands aren't merely informed by their surroundings so much as they're almost defined by them. The emergence of the likes of Wu Lyf, Everything Everything and Dutch Uncles has bucked that notion in recent years, but unlike PINS, they've never been the straight-up, plug in and play type. Out with some minute post punk similarities to The Fall, the four piece have always come across as more Brooklyn than Bury and so when they announced their intention to record album number two at Dave Catching's Rancho de La Luna in California, it was a decision that felt apposite. PINS' time at the ranch hasn't much altered their stylistic tenets, but rather reinforced and polished them.

PINS architect and frontwoman Faith Holgate has always stressed the band's desire to maintain a disparate sonic palette and it's an MO that can be felt throughout the first half of the album. 'Baby Bhangs' is titled like a Best Coast track, but where Bethany Cosentino might deal in lyrics about boys and sunny melodies, Holgate goes down the route of chain smoking, leather and fiendish angular riffs. The peppiness and summer hooks of 'Young Girls' which follow immediately afterwards are almost flummoxing in contrast, as Holgate ponders the future ("what will we do when our dreams come true?"), before coming to an irreverent conclusion as to what she might want it to mean ("wouldn't it be fun, wouldn't it be fun to kiss everyone?") Things then take an experimental twist with 'Curse These Dreams', a trippy desert jam that sounds as if it could have been plucked from the Brian Jonestown Massacre back catalogue, but even it sounds sober in the 420 stakes when up against the neo-psych guitar and woozy ooh ooh's that imbue 'Got It Bad'.

Catching's circus organ fingerprints are smeared all over 'Too Little Too Late', a sludgy, down tempo jam that trudges along before exploding with a gritty post punk crescendo, while House of Love' stomps and sneers as Holgate laments the emptiness of club culture ("come on, come on, you've seen it all before"). 'Molly', arguably the band's diciest track yet, makes up for what it lacks in subtlety with its sultry vocals and wild west hooks, while 'Too Late' shimmers but sounds like a dead ringer for the Buzzcocks 'Everybody's Happy Nowadays'. Closing off proceedings is the understated 'Everyone Says' which initially teases with a foreboding, Black Angels-y riff, but ends up seguing into a tender ballad.

Some bands go to the Rancho de la Luna to find themselves, yet PINS convey the impression that they went there simply to have fun. Wild Nights may have been recorded years apart from their debut, Girls Like Us, but the swift method of live recording has remained much the same. In an age where multi tracking has become the norm, there's a charm about the act of pitching up, playing and recording an entire album within a week. With such a mercurial approach to their craft, it's hard to map out just where PINS are heading, but wherever it may be, it's no doubt somewhere exciting and a long way from Manchester.

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