If you’re revelling in the wake of a break up, ruminating about how lost you are without someone by your side, or even just reminiscing about past lust, then this may be the album for you. If none of those above conditions apply, I would advise you to give this one a miss. American English by Tor Miller wallows in self-pity, lamenting on the loneliness and heartache that naturally incurs in a post break-up situation.

The last track which features on the record, ‘Stampede’, somewhat ironically begins with the lyrics ‘‘I know how this story goes’’, which could be more indicative of the album as a whole. Anyone who has listened to albums like Adele’s, those totally dedicated to fraught love, will know exactly how this album will unfold. Ultimately it becomes unbelievably tedious, as each track runs on from the last with very little distinction in content between them.

There is no doubt that Miller demonstrates great range, depth and scale in his vocals, alongside a varied instrument infused background. However, the content grows grating and, by the end, it can be categorised as nothing more than drab and dreary. The occasional piece of profanity is thrown in alongside his love-spent lyrics to give him a slightly edgier exterior, when in all reality the album is vanilla at best. ‘Crust Punk Queen’, as its title heavily indicates, falls under the aforementioned charges; it resembles a more cheesy version of Ed Sheeran’s ‘The A Team’, with the lyrics ‘‘trust fund drug fiend’’ reverberating through my speakers for the first and last time.

In short, the album is something that has been churned out thousands of times before, and no doubt will be churned out again. Post break-up built up angst at its disappointing best.

Niall Ballinger

(Image: Verge Campus)