Cai Burns’ emergence in lockdown as Blood Wizard was startling in the project’s seemingly instant realisation. Western Spaghetti – his full-length debut – was the sort of record that could have been mistaken for a cult outsider’s work years deep into honing their craft. Its deftly balanced mix of quietly forceful hooks, plaintive textures and wry lyricism created a welcoming space to escape amidst the tension of the times. However, on the much-anticipated follow-up Grinning William it’s clear that Burns has only previously scratched the surface of what Blood Wizard can be.
Grinning William is a record that advances Burns’ reputation as one of the UK underground’s most underrated ears when it comes to arresting hooks and pop smarts. Here, he pulls them through a prism that refracts differently from his previous releases – the more alt. folk leanings of his debut have been largely ushered out in lieu of slung low, beefier guitars that at times tighten up into taut new wave urgency and at others allow themselves to fully embrace the drop tuned sludge. Alex G remains an influence, and Burns also notes taking cues from the playfulness of Cate le Bon and Aldous Harding, as well as the raw, direct vocal production of Dean Blunt. However, he’s more than capable of plotting his own path, adept at packing in a bustling array of ideas into efficient three-minute pop songs.
Opener sciencefiction is almost a goodbye to his previous album in its pared down guitar and embracing vocal drawl – harking back to the softer-edge Kurt Vile-reminiscent stylings of some of Western Spaghetti. The album’s title track then swerves direction, painting a more broadly brushed chorus atop a feedback drenched foundation, Burns swapping in and out of vocals with keyboardist Faye Robinson.