James Veck-Gilodi’s first words on Deaf Havana’s sixth album are startling in their candour. ‘I was on a bridge in Singapore, thinking of jumping / Then I looked up at the skyline and it made me think of London,’ he sings on Pocari Sweat. ‘It used to be my home, now it’s a place I can’t afford / It’s all my fault.’ It’s this sort of blunt vulnerability that makes him such a compelling songwriter, but the last time we heard from his band on 2018’s fifth outing Rituals, his brilliance was buried beneath an over-reliance on tired religious imagery and a conformist indie pop sound. Four years on, and now with a slimmed down two man line-up, Deaf Havana have given themselves a chance to return to form. One of the most pleasing features of Th...