Tallies - Patina (LP) - Green Vinyl

Some records feel like they’ve caught the late afternoon light just right. Patina is one of those, a gleaming second act from Toronto’s Tallies that landed on 29 July 2022 via Kanine Records and Hand Drawn Dracula, with Bella Union handling the UK and Europe. The timing suited it. Midwinter or midsummer, this is music that chases the warm glow that sticks around after the sun dips, all chiming guitars and breathy melodies that refuse to sour.

Tallies wear their jangle-pop and dream-pop lineage proudly, but they never sound like revivalists. The reference points are familiar enough if you love your record shelves: the glassy glide of Cocteau Twins, the breezy snap of The Sundays, some Sarah Records sparkle, and a bit of that brisk, coastal strum that suggests bikes, salt air and a long way to go before last train. What sells it is the clarity. Sarah Cogan’s voice floats but doesn’t drift, always cutting a firm line through the guitars, and guitarist Dylan Frankland stitches together bright arpeggios with a patience that prizes tone and touch over fireworks. There is reverb here, sure, but there’s also intent. The songs feel drawn rather than smeared.

No Dreams of Fayres sets the tone with a headlong tempo and a melody that steps up exactly where you want it to, then keeps going. The guitars sparkle in layers, not as a wash, and the rhythm section never gets bogged down. It’s the kind of single that explains the whole record in four minutes. Hearts Underground is a shade tougher, a little more forward in the low end, with a chorus that might lodge itself in your day before you even notice. The hook hangs on the end of a line and lingers there like someone not quite ready to say goodbye at the tram stop. Tallies have a knack for those small decisions that make the difference between pleasant and magnetic.

Across the full sequence, Patina is lean and purposeful. Short intros, smart bridges, exits that make you flip the side rather than check your phone. The band knows how to find momentum in detail, whether it’s a hi-hat pattern that lifts a verse or a counter-melody that sneaks under the main line in the chorus. The guitars keep a bright, chorus-laden shimmer without turning brittle, and there’s space in the mix for the bass to add shape. It’s easy to imagine these songs breathing nicely in a small room, and that live energy comes through on the recordings without any fuss.

There’s also a sense of growth from their 2019 debut. The songwriting feels tighter and more confident, like they’ve figured out how to tuck a big feeling into a neat pop frame without sanding off the edges. Nothing outstays its welcome, yet you get the sense there’s more under the surface if you sit with it. The title fits the music. Patina suggests weathering, the beauty that comes from exposure, and these tracks carry a gentle toughness that makes them stick. Even when the melodies are feather-light, the songs hold their line.

If you collect Tallies vinyl, this one earns its shelf space. The Patina vinyl release plays to the band’s strengths, letting those chiming guitars and airy harmonies bloom at volume. It is the sort of record you’ll pull when a friend asks for something bright but not syrupy, or when you want to open a window and let the room breathe. For crate diggers drifting through a Melbourne record store, it is a hand-on-spine, tilt-the-cover kind of pick. And if you’re hunting from the couch, it’s easy to buy Tallies records online through the labels that issued it. Tallies albums on vinyl sit nicely alongside your dream-pop staples, and Patina will likely be the one you reach for first. If you’re shopping around vinyl records Australia, this is a safe, satisfying add to cart.

Patina doesn’t pretend to reinvent the wheel. It turns it with care and verve, with songs that feel familiar on first pass and rewarding on the fifth. In a year full of loud statements, Tallies chose clarity, colour and craft. Good choice.