Still a much-loved indie underdog after six top 20 records, how can SFA go wrong? They just whip out their squelchy brass and jangly guitars and stumble upon a sonic experience that took Brian Wilson four decades to perfect. The gospel harmonies of 'Let the Wolves' attest to a band brimming with experience. But their usual humour and warmth is replaced by a smug complacency. They fail to develop their retro psychedelia influences, and use fairground organs and cutesy strings as lazy shorthand for dreamy nostalgia. The result is a pleasant record that's lacking in personality.