Metronomy's The English Riviera: Seagulls, Synths & Soft Power
- Ben Preece
- 7 days ago
- 7 min read
Updated: 16 hours ago
Your end-of-month companion piece to the Record of the Month.
To know Metronomy's history is to understand The English Riviera's brilliance completely. A project of the quietly brilliant Joseph Mount, Metronomy began as a scrappy laptop/DJ solo venture before evolving into one of the most quietly influential British bands of their time. That transformation crystallised here—with a new lineup, a new aesthetic, and a clear-eyed sense of place. The English Riviera traded in jagged electro-pop oddities for warm, nostalgic pop grooves, with all the eccentricity still intact.
A Surprise Coastal Classic
Depending on your point of entry, The English Riviera either arrived as a left turn or a long-overdue arrival. Gone were the glowsticks and synth squelch. In their place: light funk, soft-focus grooves, and a deeply British take on spacious electronic yacht rock.
It borrows the polish of California but filters it through the grey-skied charm of the British seaside—Totnes, Torquay, and the quiet ache of towns a little too far from the action. The result is neither parody nor pastiche, but something oddly touching: pop music that feels at home wearing flip-flops in the rain.
Released on 8 April 2011, The English Riviera marked a proper band effort. Founding bassist Gabriel Stebbing had departed (though not before laying down the record’s signature basslines), with Olugbenga Adelekan and Anna Prior stepping in to form the rhythm section that would anchor Metronomy for the next decade. What they brought was immeasurable: fluidity, space, not to mention a stronger visual image, and a musical ease that allowed Mount’s songwriting to breathe in a whole new way.
Totnes by Way of Studio 54
At its heart, this is a homecoming record—Mount’s love letter to the sleepy coastal sprawl of Totnes and the nearby South West shores. But rather than play it parochial, he imagines a Riviera of the mind: seagulls loop through the opening track, waves lap like white noise, and everywhere are the pastel tones of an imagined seaside where Steely Dan soundtracks beach bars and the air smells faintly of salt and synthetic cocktails. From that opening track, which is nothing more than beachside sound effects, the tone and intention of The English Riviera are clear. No doubt.
The English Riviera sounds like what it feels like to squint into the sun at golden hour. A polished, restrained warmth runs through every track—from the restrained strut of 'The Look' to the melancholy glide of 'The Bay' and the underrated 'Everything Goes My Way', featuring guest vocals from Veronica Falls' Roxanne Clifford. Mount’s monotone delivery gives way to something looser and more melodic. Synths trade their bite for bloom. And those basslines? They slink, bounce, and groove with understated flair.
A Mood and a Movement
It’s no surprise the album found acclaim, even with Pitchfork’s infamously lukewarm 6.4/10 review (cheers, lads). Elsewhere, critics rightly saw this for what it was: a sharp reinvention. It was nominated for the Mercury Prize in 2011, landed near the top of NME’s year-end list, and quietly set the tone for a wave of indie-pop acts who would follow. But beyond that, it’s the kind of record that sticks with people. A sleeper that keeps revealing new details with every revisit.
There’s a playful weirdness buried in its bones—the kazoo coda of 'Some Written', the comb-as-percussion on 'The Look', or the Richard Barbieri-like keyboard textures on 'She Wants'. You can hear echoes of Tusk-era Fleetwood Mac, Phoenix’s minimalism, The Cars' gloss, Orbital’s subtleties, and Field Music’s melodic nous. But none of those references quite pin it down. That’s the magic—it stands on its own.
The English Riviera didn’t exactly spark a movement in flashing neon lights—but it quietly reshaped the 2010s indie-electronic world. You can hear its echoes today in the lush synths, slower tempos, and romantic tones of bands like Glass Animals, Jungle, Parcels, and countless others who dared to express and stretch themselves without fear.
Joseph Mount: "... this one is me trying to distil what makes a song down to its purest form. It’s more minimal and lyrically I’m getting more comfortable with lyrics and I’m beginning to see the value of them and the fun you can have with them."
The Singles: Strut, Shuffle, Swoon
If The English Riviera felt like a reinvention, its singles sealed the deal. 'She Wants' emerged first, in January 2011—a slow, sleek prelude that traded in icy electronics and sly sensuality. All space and suggestion, it was accompanied by a single-shot video played entirely in reverse, Mount and co. entirely absent except for framed photographs and blink-and-you’ll-miss-it easter eggs. A QR code embedded on the wall led fans straight to the band’s website—early proof that Mount was still playing with format, not just form. Each single teased a different mood, but together they captured the album’s full scope: understated, stylish, strange, and quietly irresistible.
Then came 'The Look'—the breakthrough moment. Released in March, a month ahead of the album release, it remains Metronomy’s signature track: four-note keyboard riff, minimalist production, and a sense of effortless cool that never tips into smugness. Lorenzo Fonda’s video—a mix of band performance and animated seagulls—towed the line between high-concept and playful, and helped land the track in late-night DJ sets, car commercials, and eventually the end credits of an Almodóvar film (I’m So Excited!).
By June, 'The Bay' was on heavy rotation. Shot on location in Torquay and cut with bird’s-eye views of Devon, the David Wilson-directed clip turns small-town scenery into stylish, cinematic backdrop. Musically, it’s the record’s most anthemic moment, a louche indictment of place and expectation that still hits hard—especially if you've ever grown up somewhere that felt just a little too far from the action.
Finally, 'Everything Goes My Way' arrived in October: a gentle comedown and a surprise fan favourite. Clifford’s vocal is bright and feather-light, grounding the track in something real, while the video—shot in a deer-filled nature reserve—adds a surreal, almost fairytale charm.
Metronomy's The English Riviera—Track by Track
(Not just a tracklist, but a journey along the coastline of Mount’s imagination.)
1. The English Riviera"
Not more than a 37 second interlude, a curtain-raiser in miniature. Less a song than a stage-setter. Seagulls wheel overhead, synths stretch and shimmer, and you’re suddenly seaside.
Listen for: the faint coastal field recordings Mount captured to open the record like a film scene.
2. We Broke Free
"We broke free, but not of you..."
A soft, measured unfurling. Mount’s voice is ghostlike at first, until the drums crack and the motorik glide locks in. Like blinking into sunlight after a dark room.
For fans of: Air, Field Music, early Stereolab.
3. Everything Goes My Way
"What we have will never change..."
An understated, slightly off-kilter love song dressed as a break-up anthem. Roxanne Clifford adds a human glow to the robotic chill Metronomy once favoured. Drummer Anna Prior sings this one live, while the boys step back into full '60's girl group mode for the "do do do's".
Did you know: The video features Clifford and the band wandering through a deer-filled reserve in Kent. It’s as surreal and sweet as the song itself.
4. The Look
"You're up and you'll get down..."
The cleanest, sleekest thing Mount has ever written—and the band’s defining track. That four-note keyboard riff, the skeleton groove, the casual strut of it all.
Listen for: the comb-as-percussion sound Mount made by brushing teeth of a comb against a mic—Lindsey Buckingham vibes all the way.
5. She Wants
"She says I must be out of my mind..."
Cool detachment wrapped in fretless bass. Minimal, moody, and more about groove than hooks. A nighttime crawl of a track.
Notable quote: Mount said it was the first song where he “felt like a real songwriter” rather than just a producer messing around.
6. Trouble
"There’s always trouble in paradise..."
Romance in slow motion. A lovers’ quarrel replayed with elegance and empathy. Feels like closing the fridge door too hard after an argument, but still making them tea.
Listen for: the soft-swing rhythm that feels more like swaying than drumming.
7. The Bay
"You may have the body, but do you have the song?"
Simultaneously sarcastic and sublime. A slinky, bass-heavy ode to small-town claustrophobia and lowkey glamour. Mount’s most quotable lyrics are all here.
For bonus listening, listen to this French cover by Clara Luciana.
For fans of: Phoenix, Hot Chip, Parcels.
8. Loving Arm
"You’re gonna need a loving arm..."
A late-night drift. Hazy and hypnotic, built from repetition and negative space. Feels like being carried home after the party.
Listen for: the subtle Orbital-style synth washes—Mount has admitted their influence on the album’s ambient edges.
9. Corinne
"Corinne, you’re such a charmer..."
The twitchy one. One a lesser album, this would've been the lead single. Punchy drums, manic energy, and a lyrical tension that hints at obsession. A callback to Metronomy’s spikier beginnings.
Did you know: The backing vocal pattern was partly inspired by The Cars' 'My Best Friend’s Girl'—filtered through Mount’s own paranoia.
10. Some Written
"Something about this doesn't feel right..."
Stylophone, kazoo, and slow unravel. The weirdest moment on the record—and one of its most endearing. Begins like a pop song, ends in a slow collapse.
Listen for: the outro that doesn’t fade—it simply forgets to stop.
11. Love Underlined
"I just want you to know..."
The comedown, but make it euphoric. A final shimmer that loops back through the album’s themes with a touch more urgency and emotional lift. A curtain call in full colour.
Notable quote: Mount called it “a sort of sibling” to Nights Out’s 'On the Motorway'—a callback to where it all began, but evolved.
The Legacy and Beyond
More than just a stylistic pivot, Metronomy's The English Riviera was a defining moment for the group—a creative breakthrough that broadened their scope and sharpened their identity. It was proof that Joe Mount wasn’t just an electronic tinkerer or indie curio; he was a full-fledged songwriter, capable of building worlds from tone, texture, and restraint.
The album laid the groundwork for everything that followed. 2014’s Love Letters leaned even harder into analog warmth and retro aesthetics, recorded entirely to tape with fewer electronic flourishes and a newfound affection for soul and psychedelia. Then came Summer 08, a kind of conceptual backflip to his Nights Out-era persona—dancey, self-aware, and cheekily nostalgic. Each album since has shifted again, as Mount has oscillated between full-band collaboration and lone-studio experimentation, but the through-line always leads back to The English Riviera. It’s the moment where everything clicked.
What really lingers, though, is its sense of place. Not some fantasy of California cool, but something more local and layered—Totnes, Torquay, the faded glamour of Britain’s coastal towns. It captured the charm and melancholy of growing up somewhere slightly off the map. The sea is there, sure, but it’s often grey. The cocktails are warm. The nights out are awkward. And yet—through Mount’s lens—it’s still magic.
Even now, The English Riviera feels lived in. It’s humid with memory, bright with possibility, and never in a rush. An album about coming home, even as you dream of escape. For Mount, and for a generation of listeners, it became both a departure and a destination.
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