Simon Bromide & The Bromides find beauty in imperfection on Forest Mountain Forest

There is something deeply comforting about artists who continue to chase songs with the same hunger they had decades earlier. On Forest Mountain Forest, Simon Bromide & The Bromides sound like musicians still completely enthralled by the strange magic of melody, memory and human connection. The result is an album that feels loose, thoughtful and steeped in guitar-pop tradition but never trapped by it.

Built around a more fully realised band dynamic than previous releases, Forest Mountain Forest carries a warmth and confidence that immediately stands out. The addition of a stable lineup gives these songs greater shape and momentum, while producer Brian O’Shaughnessy once again helps balance intimacy with texture. The album breathes naturally, allowing rough edges, passing thoughts and emotional contradictions to remain visible inside the music.

The touchstones are easy to hear. Flashes of Big Star, Teenage Fanclub and Silver Jews drift through the album’s DNA, but Simon Bromide never feels interested in imitation. He treats those influences like old companions sitting around the room while these songs slowly unfold.

What makes the record so engaging is its sense of lived-in humanity. Tracks arrive as snapshots of thought, conversation and emotional instinct. 'Leonard’s Chair' captures the thrill of a song being discovered in real time, while the title-track transforms life’s larger existential cycles into something strangely uplifting. There is a casual brilliance to the songwriting throughout, with lines and ideas that initially seem conversational before revealing deeper emotional weight several listens later.

'Sing To Forget' may be one of the album’s defining moments, turning music itself into a temporary escape from mortality and anxiety. While 'Jean-Luc Godard Directs' spirals beautifully through literary references, philosophy and fractured imagery without collapsing under its own ambition. Here, Simon Bromide understands that sometimes atmosphere and emotional movement matter more than straightforward explanation.

Musically, the album constantly rewards attention. Sam Kelly’s drumming provides subtle propulsion, while Ed Wright’s bass playing quietly anchors the record’s more wandering moments. Ollie Parfitt’s keys add texture without overcrowding the arrangements, and the various guest appearances enrich the songs without distracting from their emotional centre.

There is also an understated emotional intelligence running through the album. 'Clouds' captures fleeting transcendence with remarkable simplicity, while 'Not Over Yet' turns regret and imagined second chances into something oddly tender rather than bleak. Even 'Song For Elon Musk', which could easily have become heavy-handed, instead lands with wit, sadness and surprising empathy.

Perhaps the album’s greatest achievement is that it feels communal without losing its personal voice. Forest Mountain Forest is full of songs about gathering, sharing space, finding meaning through other people and disappearing temporarily into music together. And that spirit reaches its peak on 'We’re All Here', a quietly moving celebration of togetherness that closes the record with warmth and embrace.

In an era obsessed with perfection and immediacy, Simon Bromide & The Bromides deliver an album that feels genuinely lived in. Thoughtful, melodic and rich with emotional detail, Forest Mountain Forest reminds you that some records are designed to slowly become part of your life.

Stream Forest Mountain Forest HERE.