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I remember reading somewhere that being dumped can be as bad, if not worse than, a sudden bereavement. Everyone has had one of those sudden, awful breakups and can relate to the way that they completely dislocate you in time and space,  turning once familiar faces and spaces into weird alien moments, filled with regret, loss and painful memories.

I’m still not entirely sure how they’ve done it, but this is exactly the sense of disorientation that Sorry have managed to bottle on their second record. Written in the aftermath of a relationship, it’s a record that has sucked up the essence of the past few years into a strange musical time capsule. From the twisted, haunted-sounding indie pop of the opener ‘Let the Light In’, a song that sounds like a foggy memory of a disheartened 3AM exit from The Lexington, to the more subdued, dirge-like balladry of ‘I Miss The Fool’, this is an album that sucks up that feeling of being lost, discombobulated and suddenly estranged from everything that you once knew.

Admittedly, that all sounds pretty heavy, but Anywhere But Here doesn’t throw out the pop magic of its predecessor, 925. Recording for the first time as a fully-formed band, musically the album fleshes out Sorry’s sound even further, the addition of live drums and laidback drums adding a sense of urgency, warmth and depth to the North Londoners’ now-perfected formula.

Being honest, it’s probably a couple of anthems short of being a new Parklife, but as both a collection of songs and a piece of psychogeography Anywhere But Here is truly impressive. This is Sorry finally shedding their bedroom pop image and embracing their destiny as an experimental and visionary indie rock band.