The 7 are turning into this year’s Groove Armada, tasteful ambi-folk stoners with all the toxins removed, a wholesome alternative to more weighty musical alternatives. It’s no bad thing, but how many sun-kissed mood-lifters can one cloudy British summer accommodate? This soporific trip-soul snoozer might sound magnificent on a bleached-out beach outside San Antonio, but from your correspondent’s high-rise West Country crack hell it just trickles past like pastel-shaded wallpaper. Nor can Photek’s clipped tech-house makeover or Hefner’s winsome cocktail-jazz deconstruction add much character. There is such a thing as being too ‘nice’, you know?