It's an interesting path The Mantles have weaved up until now. They are often dubbed as 'amateur', not for slanderous reasons, but in light of their hobby like approach to writing and releasing. They handle their own bookings, tour selectively and sporadically, take relatively lengthy gaps between releases and only recently hired a PR agent, no doubt in conjunction with this latest album. In a sense, this takes certain pressures of the creative process; they've never considered it a career option, have no fixed commitment to the road, and seem free from the industry rigmarole that demands a constant splurge of releases. As a band they are only tied down by their own ambitions, no one else's, and those ambitions appear relatively humble and slow burning.

The bands nature, in this sense, reflects their musical output. The album is charming precisely because it has no serious weight to it; its lyrics engage but don't impose; its instrumentation, though inevitably steeped in the gritty tones of south-coast garage, isn't dense or demanding. As an album, It is content to just be. Contrary to much new music, which is often debilitated by a pervading self-consciousness, this album doesn't necessarily care about you or me. Having said that, they aren't new to the scene. They've had time, perhaps, to develop a thick enough skin. But the fact they've only garnered a small but dedicated audience over a fairly lengthy period suggests a self-contentedness, an honest and self-referential pleasure that isn't entirely reliant on the receiver.

The self-titled debut that precedes Long Enough To Leave was easily pigeonholed. Express lo-fi sympathies, over-utilise a straight and energetic drumbeat nearly void of fills, distort yourself in all the prominent places, partially drown the vocal in a haze of instrumentation. There you have it, labelled as Garage, references to the Dream Syndicate and Paisley Underground reeled off routinely. It's a set of characteristics that don't always allow for autonomy, especially when critics are desperate to draw up sonic family trees.

But time has passed since the days of their debut, four long years later. As a result this new album marks a notable shift. Not radically so, the same feverous drums race beneath it all and the lyrics still chime with a stylised lethargy, but overall something lighter has emerged, less punchy and raucous, more mellowed and breezy.

Having said that, taken on first listen, it did feel somewhat underwhelming; there was nothing that made it immediately identifiable, no idiosyncrasies that gave the record any tangible autonomy. It suffered, as the first record did, with a stillness of character. Each song was a kind of repeat procedure. But, and here comes the big fat twist, that initial appraisal is arguably invalid. Long Enough To Wait is almost completely dependent on the listener's there-and-then attitude. When I first listened I was pissed of by how bright and clear it sounded because of my own foul mood. That may sound ridiculously obvious, and I always like to refrain from referencing 'me', but what I'm suggesting is that the album only feels right when you're in a position to feel it, to share in its almost existential vibes (that sounds horribly superfluous, but makes some kind of sense). Approach it with baggage, in search of some cathartic resolution, hoping each track will aurally rub ailments, and you'll leave discontent.

When I first listened, I was situated on a shitty train, vacuum packed and hurtling through the sunshine, but unable to actively basking in it. I wasn't ready to be told, through a cohort of carefree sonics, that life was peachy – I was being lied to, it was incongruous with my given reality. The second listen, after an evening of Game Of Thrones (WOW) and solid rest, things were different. I'm not saying I suddenly developed a spiritual connection with The Mantles, but I did suddenly connect with it it all. The album told me life was kind of all right and I nodded in accordance. When I listened in a bad mood it was draining, when I listened in a good mood, it had depth, the intricacies shone through; its identity was marked by that moment.

I suppose what I'm suggesting is that the technical content of this album isn't what's worth discussion (sorry if you came in search of that). Those things have been covered before and will be no doubt get covered again and just this once I'll abscond. The Mantles have created a cluster of songs that sustain good moods. It's not a catalyst, you have to bring your own woe-less-ness to the party, but it'll certainly keep you up. My fear is that genre-holing, band-matching and technical dissection will only bring The Mantles down. It'll only burst their very buoyant balloon. And since I'm holding onto its string, floating skyward, it's in my best interest that it doesn't burst and I end this here.