On their second album, The Belair Lip Bombs trade their scrappy debut energy for clarity and control. Again is a sleek, emotionally direct collection of guitar-pop songs that finds power in precision — the sound of a band refining rather than reinventing itself.
Review
For The Belair Lip Bombs, Again feels like the sound of arrival. Now on Jack White’s Third Man Records, the Melbourne quartet’s second album is sleek but heartfelt, punchy but human — the kind of record that proves polish doesn’t have to come at the expense of pulse. It shows that their 2023 debut, Lush Life, wasn’t a one-off flash of promise. This one breathes with certainty: ten songs of luminous, melodic guitar pop built for movement and reflection in equal measure.
From the first seconds of Again and Again, the intent is clear: “One minute I was up in your head. Now you tell me that I’m wasting my breath,” sings Maisie Everett with a wry calm, as if calling out the exhaustion of repetition while finding strength inside it. A perfect opening shot — weary, direct, and strangely exhilarating. It sets the tone for an album about endurance more than escape.
The guitars spark and stutter beneath her, bright and insistent, the rhythm section pushing everything forward like a heartbeat too quick to slow down. It’s a mission statement wrapped in melody: keep going, even when it hurts.
The track Don’t Let Them Tell You (It’s Fair) is a grooving, high-energy rocker and a standout anthem from Again, characterized by a jangly riff, a sturdy groove, and a warm, fuzzy wall of guitars that lands between indie rock and timeless power-pop. Everett delivers the core message—that it’s essential to “make your own luck” and “not let anyone walk all over you”—with conviction, turning this track into a defiant, catchy manifesto that showcases the band’s strong musicianship and growing confidence.
Everett’s voice remains the band’s compass — expressive without ornament, resolute yet fragile around the edges. On Cinema, she teases, “You remind me of a cinema. Cause every time you show me somebody new,” a line that captures the album’s restless introspection: endless scenes, shifting faces, emotion on constant replay. Everett’s pop instincts meet her lyrical subtlety: a metaphor that turns memory into montage. The song shimmers with late-night melancholy, its chiming guitars catching the light like streetlamps on wet asphalt.
Another World turns that introspection outward, its chorus lifting into daylight: “You hold me up, did I stutter? To understand, I need your trust. To fill the blank with my body. ‘Cause deep down, I want you.” The band sound utterly alive here — Michael Bradvica’s guitar lines tumble over one another, while James Droughton and Daniel Devlin drive the song like a wind at their backs. It’s power-pop that hums with emotional gravity: bright enough to sing along to, but grounded by longing. It’s – dare I say it – Matthew Sweet-esque, though much of the record is, to be honest.
The record’s emotional centre — hopeful but hesitant, holding out a hand rather than a promise.
The oh, so catchy, hook-laden, and instant single, Hey You sparks, with lyrics such as “Breaking the silence, I’m holding my own. Reading the message when nobody’s home.”
It’s a punchy, emotionally charged track that balances the band’s fuzz-pop energy with a subtle sonic shift. Led by Everett’s expressive vocals, the song conveys a mix of longing, frustration, and defiance. Its lyrics oscillate between confession and confrontation (“Motherfucker just say what you mean”). This makes the emotion feel immediate and raw. Musically, the addition of a driving synth loop adds a new texture to their signature guitar-driven sound, giving the track a glistening, modern sheen without losing its gritty charm.
Even the record’s quieter corners carry weight. On Burning Up, Everett concedes, “You gotta cut out the cancer. You gotta leave it behind,” her voice barely rising above a whisper. An unflinching moment of self-surgery, sung without melodrama. It’s a line that lingers.
It’s one of the album’s most vulnerable moments, a quiet reckoning with the cost of self-preservation.
And as Price of a Man closes the record, she observes, “Look at Robbie, he’s got no choice. He’ll show you what it takes to be a man,” a line that lands like a short story — tender, grim, and true all at once. A small, brutal vignette that closes the record with compassion and bite — a reminder that growing up rarely looks heroic.
Verdict
Musically, Again glows with purpose. The band’s chemistry — honed through years of gigging across Australia’s east coast — translates effortlessly to record. The interplay between instruments feels instinctive; no one overplays, no one hides. The production, clean but warm, gives the sense of a band performing in the same small room, feeding off one another’s cues.
If Again is about anything, it’s persistence — the quiet heroism of trying once more. Everett’s writing never preaches; it observes. Her imagery is vivid but unfussy, her delivery understated but magnetic. The repetition in her words mirrors the rhythm of her band: always circling back, refining, finding meaning in motion.
In a year crowded with big gestures and louder records, Again stands out for its composure. It’s the sound of a group growing into themselves — a little wiser, a little steadier, but still moved by the same restless spark that started it all.
For The Belair Lip Bombs, Again feels like the moment everything clicks into place — not the end of a chapter, but the first time the story truly finds its rhythm. You can hear a band learning how to stay honest within a bigger frame, letting precision serve emotion rather than replace it. If this record marks their coming-of-age, it also hints at what’s next: music that keeps moving forward, circling back only to see how far they’ve come. Whatever follows, they’ve already found their voice — bright, restless, and entirely their own.
Verdict: A luminous, emotionally resonant evolution. The Belair Lip Bombs turn repetition into revelation — and Again into something quietly extraordinary.
8/10
Chris Garrod, November 10, 2025
Buy: https://thebelairlipbombs.bandcamp.com/album/again