The concept behind The Coral’s eleventh album (it was conceived as a soundtrack to an imaginary film set within the filming of another film: a disaster struck Spaghetti Western) might lead one to expect a wacky musical jaunt along the lines of 2004 gonzo mini-LP Night Freak and the Sons of Becker, but following on from the conceptual masterstroke of 2021’s Coral Island, it actually produced the most emotionally mature record of the band’s career. Positioning himself within a cast of characters, among them a washed-up movie star, frontman James Skelly writes with effecting pathos as the music pulls back a gorgeous, desert-parched backdrop drawing upon Morricone, Lee Hazelwood and Love.