Anyone confronted with its concept – Paul Smith of Maxïmo Park’s travel diary set to minimalistic jazz and string compositions – might be forgiven for feeling nonplussed by Frozen by Sight’s prospects. It was never going to be as scintillating as a clowncore remix of Lennon’s Lost Weekend, but the collaborative album with Field Music’s Peter Brewis is a peculiarly riveting listen. Bereft of either drab Ginster pasty anecdotes or wildly esoteric revelations, there are instead observations on the subtle nuances of life – the “man sat on same ledge as me, flipping his mobile phone” on Exiting Hyde Park Towers, the suffocation of air-conditioning on Perth to Bunbury. If you can stomach its whimsy then the sumptuous score is a joy: Budapest’s lolloping xylophone conjures aquatic views, Barcelona (at Eye Level) is a lilting summer sway, the comforting hum of a double bass resounds throughout, and as with every Brewis creation it is imbued with a blanket of warmth.
