The Lovely Basement - Lowlands (2025)

Post-cool or too old to care? The Lovely Basement say that they set out to mix alt-country with the Velvet Underground. They also say they failed, but quite like the result. So, what do you find in The Lovely Basement? A beautiful slice of alt-country-style. Americana, infused with the sensibilities of the aforementioned Velvet Underground – and a chopping guitar that wouldn’t sound out of place on an album by the VU’s British counterpart, Fairport Convention.

Since the release in 2019 of their first album, Just Because You Can, The Lovely Basement have drawn admiring glances from all over the place: “the sweetness of Yo La Tengo and the raggedness of The Pastels”; “not dissimilar to Paisley Underground veterans the Dream Syndicate”; “tossing off songs withthe looseness of early Faces”.

he single Cornstalk Girl was the first offering from Lowlands and was picked up by Radio 6 Music’s Gideon Coe, a long-time supporter of the band’s output. Mention was also given to the “excellent” B-side cover of Beat Happening’s Angel Gone. Vocals for the album were recorded by John Parish (PJ Harvey, Howe Gelb, Eels) who stumbled across the band playing live locally and stayed!

Like all Lovely Basement records, Lowlands eloquently covers a range of subjects. From musings on sentience, inequality, globalisation, even theology, to the deep need to hunker down with good friends when the world outside gets too much, all find an often wry voice in this shimmering collection of finely crafted songs.

There is a specific kind of bravery required to be “post-cool.” In an industry obsessed with the frantic energy of the new or the polished artifice of the established, Bristol’s The Lovely Basement have opted for a third path: a relaxed, literate nonchalance that feels less like a performance and more like a conversation. Their fourth album, ‘Lowlands,’ is a shimmering collection that suggests the band isn’t “too old to care,” but rather old enough to know exactly what is worth caring about.

Released through Precious Recordings of London, ‘Lowlands’ is an album that demands a shift in the listener’s internal metronome. It has been described as an easygoing listen, but don’t mistake that for background music. This is music that lowers your blood pressure only to whisper something profound—and occasionally profane—into your ear. Immediately recognizable is the foundational “Velvets chug” that anchors the record. It’s a classic lineage—the nonchalant strut of Lou Reed’s “Waiting for the Man” reimagined through a British lens. Yet, ‘Lowlands’ isn’t a mere melange. It occupies a unique space where the ragged charm of The Pastels meets the melodic sweetness of Yo La Tengo and the desert-dry grit of The Dream Syndicate.

The guitar work, captured in part by the legendary John Parish (PJ Harvey, Eels), is wiry and intentional. There is a jangly sensibility here, but it’s underpinned by a chopping guitar style that evokes Fairport Convention as much as it does New York art-rock. The true intelligence of ‘Lowlands’ lies in its lyrical juxtapositions. The band navigates heavy themes of sentience, globalization, theology, and dementia with a wry, profound voice that avoids the trap of pretension. Take the standout track, “Mostly Wrong.” It’s a meta-commentary on rock history itself. Initially a standard Velvet Underground – style narrative, it evolves into a sophisticated critique of the vim and vigor of youth. It pays homage to the airbrushed-out matriarchs of music — Sister Rosetta Tharpe and Carol Kaye — while gently mocking the “Oasis – tude” of male bands high on their own reflected glory.

The album’s centerpiece, “Black Jumper On,” showcases the band’s ability to find the darker edge of the mundane. A jaunty alt-folk tune paired with Katie Scaife’s brilliantly disinterested vocals, it dissects the awkward social choreography of a funeral wake: “Don’t like the music and the food’s so-so / The drinks are free but the service slow.” It is perfectly observed, capturing the intersection of grief and social boredom with surgical precision. In the track “Fifth Column,” the band muses that “The cost of liberty is eternal dirt.” It’s a line that echoes the gritty realism of Bob Dylan or Reed, yet it’s delivered within a tremulous pop structure that makes the pill easy to swallow.

‘Lowland’ is an album for those who appreciate homegrown authenticity over high-gloss production. It is a record about the deep need for a hearth gathering with good friends when the world outside is not as hospitable. It acknowledges that continuing to make art in a fragile, absurd world might feel rather gormless but it remains a calling nonetheless. It is a reminder that you don’t need to be unique to be essential; you just need to be honest. It is a place to linger—a melancholic, hopeful, and utterly charming slice of indie-pop that proves some secrets are just too good to keep.

There is a rare, subversive power in music that refuses to raise its voice. In an era defined by the frantic pursuit of the “new,” The Lovely Basement have cultivated an aesthetic of radical patience. ‘Lowlands,’ is a lesson in the art of the “post-cool” — a record that understands that true authority comes not from volume, but from the steady, rhythmic pulse of lived experience and intellectual curiosity.