Following their acclaimed debut Howling at a Concrete Moon, a coming-of-age record that captured the disaffection of youth in austerity-era Britain, Pynch return with Beautiful Noise. Less concerned with making sense of the world around them, their second full-length shifts its gaze inward, taking a trip though love, death, faith and the pursuit of meaning through art.
Produced by frontman Spencer Enock in the band’s home studio, with drums recorded by Stereolab’s Andy Ramsay at Press Play Studios, Beautiful Noise is a lo-fi odyssey that feels both more intimate and more ambitious than its predecessor. Mixed by Jimmy Robertson (Fat Dog / Los Campesinos!), the album is a kaleidoscope of distortion, new-wave synths, breakbeats and glitchy vocals presented in playfully DIY fashion.
This approach to production is narrated in the meta-pop of “Post-Punk”, where Spencer sings, “I’m playing with a drum machine, I’m glued to my laptop screen / I don’t know what I’m doing but maybe that’s where the truth is”. The same slacker sincerity runs across the record, from the summertime melancholy of “Forever” to “Hanging on a Bassline’s” plea for cheap beer and understanding. Despite the existential weight of its themes, Beautiful Noise is filled with irreverent charm and warmth.
Throughout the album, everyday snapshots like searching for the perfect pair of jeans or reading relationship advice on Reddit are set against plainspoken philosophy. “Microwave Rhapsody” ponders the meaning of life: “Does it even matter at all? / I thought I could be anything / Is there really something more?”, while the title track asks, “Is it all just a Beautiful Noise? / Daily pain and joy before we return to the void?” These juxtapositions form the heart of Pynch’s sound: intimate but cinematic, melancholic but playful, lo-fi yet expansive.
Just as inspired by Jonathan Richman and Sufjan Stevens as they are Pavement and New Order, the songwriting on Beautiful Noise is sharper, more confident and often more vulnerable. “How to Love Someone” and “Revolve Around You” trace the breakdown of a relationship with burning catharsis, while “The Supermarket” explores modern ennui and alienation. “Come Outside”, the penultimate track, is a breathless duet between Spencer and drummer Julianna Hopkins that weaves the album’s themes into poignant yet hopeful collage:

“It’s in the misspent weekends, the sun, the sea, the seasons,
The aching heart that’s beating, the English air we’re breathing.
It’s in the fading dreams that we choose to believe.
It’s in the mystery of being anything.”
The record then closes with “It’s Wonderful”, which strikes a chord of chaotic bliss, celebrating the act of creating art as an end in itself while delivering one final bittersweet confession:
“I really thought that I could change the world / I couldn’t even change for my girl / All I’ve ever known is Rock and Roll / It’s wonderful, it’s wonderful.”
Beautiful Noise marks a new chapter for Pynch. After founding member James Rees stepped back following their debut, Myles Gammon joined on synthesisers in 2024, bringing new textures to the band’s evolving sound. Spencer’s brother Scott contributes the album’s artwork with his self-developed 35mm photography providing a striking visual accompaniment and typifying the DIY ethos of the band. Alongside drummer Julianna Hopkins, who also provides vocals and synth parts on the record, each member brings a distinct voice to the band’s identity. Fittingly released on the band’s own label, Chillburn Recordings and distributed by The State 51 Conspiracy, Beautiful Noise is a labour of love in every sense.
This is not a record of answers but of small moments and big questions. Of spiritual yearning disguised as slacker pop. As Spencer puts it: “We wanted to make a record that’s authentic and reflective of who we are a band. We mostly recorded it in my bedroom in Brixton with the help of some incredible people. It’s all about love, death and the wonder of being alive in the first place. It was a joy to make, and I think you can hear that in the music.” In a time that asks artists to self-brand, self-sell, and self-commodify, Pynch have made something else. Something messier, stranger, and more human. It’s a deeply personal record made by a band still figuring things out and finding something transcendent in the process.
Source: SubmitHub
Photo credit: Pynch


