Funeral For A Friend - 'Tales Don't Tell Themselves' (Warners) Released 14/05/07

Without a doubt, Funeral For A Friend had an agenda with this album. This is a far cry from their 2005 effort 'Hours' with it's emo-smattered, screechy rock vibe. In 'Tales Don’t Tell Themselves', their ambitions are clear to produce a more mature, epic and melodic piece of work. There is a clear nautical theme with many of the songs, telling tales of being lost and at the mercy of the sea. So lets find out what made our 'Friends say that this was the best studio experience they've ever had...

The boys set sail with 'Into Oblivion (Reunion)' with it's hymn like, wriggling beat as gentle strings swoop in before the guitar crushes down on top of it all. The vocal is gentle, vulnerable "I can see my wife and I can see my child." Things only push up a few notches for the chorus before sinking back. Already this feels like a setting for bigger things to come. The bass thrums repetitively holding the song together. Last time around, this euphorically collides into a chorus of epic proportions with anthemic jutting strings, prickly energy strings and a bloody choir. "Home, and coming home, will you be the same as when I saw you last." Truly a stadium warm-up song. On 'The Great Wide Open' a chunky, circular riff is churned out which continues throughout the song, dotted with howling guitars in places. It explodes into chorus with some nice layering of the vocal in places, very impassioned. There then begins a spiky acapella with some steely drumming which crashes back into the verse. As the song spirals to a close, the melody begins to deconstruct as Matt Davies roars "climb out over me."

'On A Wire' has a rustic pulsating feel to guitar with a tumbling, tender piano refrain. The vocal is strip back, gentle and high-pitched and almost weak in places. The chorus is raw and makes a huge impact before pulling back to gentle piano lullabies and sighing backing vocals. The song feels deeply personal, full of tears and full of fight as Davies sings "I'm just a broken man, all alone." Which is of course, a tad melodramatic. Everything begins to roll to a close, with the lead guitar playfully rolling notes over and over.