London trio Vaults deal in tepid pseudo-profundity set to dark and weather-beaten slow-build pop. They’re not half as spooky as they try and make out. They’ve supported London Grammar, and the more accessible moments on this three-track EP are just as supermarket-friendly as the chart-topping threesome. This feigned eccentricity, diluted for the mainstream, is disheartening. The orchestral, R&B-tinged ‘Vaults’ is the best thing here, and the band have a certain way with original sounds. However, the atmosphere-free ‘Poison’, with its empty bombast, is unforgivable and about as ‘outsider’ as Phillip Schofield. It makes you long for the days when goth meant goth – damned, ugly and erotic – not Keane with minor chords.
John Calvert