Smith & Burrows - Funny Looking Angels (LP) - Picture Disc Vinyl

Some winter records feel like tinsel and novelty sweaters. Funny Looking Angels lands closer to a shared pint at closing time, the kind of album you reach for when the cold is starting to bite and you want songs that actually see you. Tom Smith of Editors and Andy Burrows, once the drummer in Razorlight and later in We Are Scientists, teamed up for this one, and their chemistry is immediate. It arrived in late November 2011 through PIAS, and it still plays like a small, gracious gift, wrapped in candlelight rather than glitter.

The heart of it is “When the Thames Froze,” a modern seasonal standard that deserves the title. Smith’s baritone carries the ache of a long year, while Burrows threads in these soft harmonies that feel like a hand on your shoulder. It is a London winter song, big on detail and restraint, hopeful without pretending everything’s fine. The drums land gently, the guitar is close and woody, and the melody sneaks up on you. You can hear both of their bands in there, the moodiness of Editors and the pop sense Burrows brings, but it never turns into pastiche. It feels lived-in.

They tip their hats to a couple of classics too. Their take on Black’s “Wonderful Life” is unfussy and kind, stripping the 1987 hit down to its bones and letting the lyric sit front and center. No big studio gloss, just space and breath and a guitar line that shimmers like frost. “Only You,” the Yazoo ballad, gets the same treatment. Instead of leaning on synth nostalgia, they warm it up with acoustic textures and a tempo that lets Smith and Burrows trade lines like friends who know exactly where the other will land. Covers are risky, particularly on a winter record, but these choices feel right because the duo isn’t showing off. They’re interpreting.

The title track, “Funny Looking Angels,” sets the tone early. It is a half-smile of a song, slightly tipsy around the edges, with chimes and soft percussion that suggest a room full of friends keeping each other company. That’s the album’s guiding spirit. Even when the songs are sad, they make space for company. There are little production choices that reward a quiet listen, like how the vocals are kept close, almost at whisper level at times, and how the guitars are recorded with a careful ear for the air around the strings. Nothing showy, just the sound of two musicians chasing a feeling until it clicks.

I always liked how the record refuses the quick fix. It nods to Christmas but never winks. You could play it in December and then keep it on through February without flinching. That’s part of why it’s aged so well. Fans of Editors will latch onto the dusky melodies and Smith’s unmistakable low voice. Listeners who followed Burrows after Razorlight will hear the songwriter who’s always had a soft spot for tender, big-hearted pop. Together, they make something that feels separate from their main gigs, a side road that’s worth walking every year.

On vinyl it really blooms. The pacing is unhurried, the dynamics are gentle, and the quiet passages ask for a needle instead of a stream. If you are crate digging and spot Funny Looking Angels vinyl, take it home, light a candle, and let the room get a little darker. I’ve seen it tucked in the seasonal bins and also shelved with singer-songwriter stuff, which makes sense. If you prefer to buy Smith & Burrows records online, plenty of shops will mail it out when the temperature drops, and it sits nicely alongside other Smith & Burrows albums on vinyl if you’re building a small corner for winter music.

There’s a charm to discovering records like this out in the world too. I’ve stumbled on copies at a Melbourne record store when the Southern Hemisphere was in scarf weather, and it fit the mood just as well there as it does in a North London pub. That portability is part of the appeal. It is specific in tone but not stuck in one place.

All these years on, Funny Looking Angels still feels like a conversation between two friends who share a taste for melancholy and a faith in melody. It is kind to the listener. It shows how a side project can be more than a footnote when the songs are this sturdy. If you’re hunting for Smith & Burrows vinyl as winter rolls in, this is the one to start with, and the one you’ll keep.