Pristine rhythm and blooz for fugitive hearts from David C. Gray and Guy Gormley, originally released as a tape on Jolly Discs last year. The Word’s sleek, synthetic urban pastorals collapse the space between the OCD pop geometries of Pyrolator, the opaque art-ache of Eno’s Before & After Science, and the sloooooow, sweet seduction of choice Jam & Lewis productions. Romantic but ever so slightly paranoid, all muted lovelorn horns, sighing synths and playful bossa/house-wise drum loops, it’s true DIY in that it simply suits itself. Mostly instrumental, it's bookended by two Gray-sung songs, 'The Hours I Wait' and the title track: drifting, downbeat, quietly devastating things, with a blue-eyed soul vibe judged just right (down-at-heel not flash with cash), and echoes of Scritti, The Blue Nile, Gareth Williams, Disco Inferno, Fish From Tahiti… but really the The Word has a sadness and sway all its own, and above all it feels OF THE NOW: with tight, tucked-in arrangements and ultra-lucid production (a Gormley trademark, but especially apparent here) that leaves just enough space to dream.