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Nov 10, 2025 Web Exclusive By Andy Von Pip

When Under the Radar first crossed paths with swim school, the world was just beginning to blink its way out of lockdown, trying to find its feet again, not unlike Bambi. The Edinburgh quartet were restless and eager to get back on stage after months spent fine-tuning their sound.

In the intervening years, they’ve lost a band member, as well as losing some facial hair, they briefly became a three-piece and eventually returned to a quartet. Through it all, they took the old-fashioned route, one that had little to do with TikTok fuckwittery and everything to do with earning their fanbase the proper way through relentless touring, festival slots, and a steadily growing catalogue of brilliantly crafted songs.

Frontwoman Alice Johnson has also spoken candidly about her experiences of sexism within the industry, something that, even in 2025, too many industry heads and hangers-on still prefer to sweep under the carpet, lest the vibe be ruined. That honesty, resilience, and hard-won confidence run through the band’s debut album, distilling their journey into nine instinctive, perfectly realized tracks.

Nothing feels calculated or polished to death; these songs are lived-in, heartfelt, and completely sure of themselves. The reverb and delay are back, the hazy textures shimmer once again, and the band sound all the better for it. As Johnson puts it, “This album is what happens when you find true confidence in yourself and stop listening to everybody else.”

It’s more late night neon lights shining off wet paving stones rather than vapid frolicking in the sunlit uplands. It’s the sound of a band sticking to their guns and knowing exactly what their sound is. Nothing feels forced or made to serve the mighty algorithm; instead, it shines with honesty, emotion, and beauty, with a dose of Scottish grit running throughout.

It’s also a debut that doesn’t chase trends. Instead, it basks in a light of its own making, with Johnson’s mellifluous vocals carried by rumbling bass lines, propulsive percussion, and iridescent, chiming guitars.

At times, they echo the sweeping atmosphere of early Ride; at others, the guitars sprawl and shimmer like The Cure, nowhere more so than on the stunning “Green Eyes (I Want It All).” There’s the aching tug of “Waste Your Time,” the driving rush of “Alone With You,” and the lovelorn glow of “Always On My Mind,” proof that swim school can balance delicacy and power with real panache.

Whereas some bands who traverse this kind of sonic territory can often sit back, congratulating themselves as they admire their own fragile delicacy before the tunes drift off like mist into the ether without really making an impression, swim school’s songs remain anchored in the real world. They may flirt with the celestial, and whilst they may be reaching for the stars, they keep their feet firmly on the ground. Casey Kasem clearly knew what he was talking about.

Elsewhere album opener “Heaven” sets the tone perfectly, “Crimson Red” employs distorted guitars to perfection. Then there’s the giddy rush of previous single “On and On,” which was one of the best songs of the summer propelled by a pulsating melody and an ear for a great pop hook. Perhaps it’s the album closer, “Am I Good Enough?,” that sums up the band’s oeuvre perfectly, balancing vulnerability with strength, melancholy with euphoric swells and surges, and proving that subtlety can often hit harder than simply turning up the volume and bellowing into the void. (www.swimschool.tmstor.es)

Author rating: 8.5/10