PERTINAX REVIEWS
By Rebecca Cullen
Pertinax – a word meaning to persist, stoically. A divinely interesting title, which quite perfectly represents the mystique and depth of the music within. UK alt-pop band and united couple SURIS return this year, with a full-length album that’s boldly artistic, unexpected, and brilliantly gripping.
​
Thirteen original tracks, a creative atmospheric production style that’s unique in both its melodies and tones, Pertinax is a fascinating independent album, from a dream-pop experimental duo whose songwriting consistently explores the unknown in a fresh, poetic fashion. As an introduction to that approach, Mended is superb – an unorthodox set-up, with intimate vocals and a strong groove, a long-form melody blending folk and power-ballad qualities, building towards a simple, snappy and satisfying hook.
​
It’s a huge, momentous opening moment, a rising energy that showcases both the versatility of our lead singer, and that of the ever-evolving sound-design and musicianship that supports her. The music is a joy to escape into, genuinely imaginative and original, and then there’s the lyrics – the final resounding sentiment, that nothing is more beautiful than a mended thing. The idea and sound are wonderful, and quickly prompt you to listen back through the full arrangement, to dive into the warmth and concept all the more so.
To describe this band in a shorter frame, SURIS is mysterious but relatable – modest and light to impassioned female vocals, a profoundly colourful array of synths, drums, keys and other instruments, cascading through the airwaves in an ambient to energised way. Meanwhile, the songs and stories meander from unpredictable to pure and catchy, always gathering a momentum and groove that’s uplifting to lose yourself within.
​
This description suits the opener, but even more so, it suits the following song Last Train Home pretty perfectly. We begin with intrigue, and wind up amidst an all-together-now explosion of unity and catchy optimism. The unusual and the satisfying walk hand-in-hand, and that makes for a brilliantly refreshing listen. All the while, these concepts and musings, the thoughtful depth and provocative poetry of songs like Now, with its welcomed twist of saxophone (from the very talented Felix Flower), are incredibly moving, inspiring, and effectively linger in the mind – long after the melodies have settled.
​
“Did you think a beard would hide your shame” is a sensational opening line, Eruption fearlessly diving into a scornful and confronting story, which again feels as poignantly original, quirky, and catchy as ever. Then we move into something uplifting and hopeful, for Whole, before the soaring rock swagger and snappy lines of Take all she brings inject a vibrancy and an earworm that’s addictive to let play.
​
The creativity of the project continues to exceed itself, as Huma delivers an other-worldly, atmospheric gem of a track, with a depth of both design and concept that’s powerful. The song tips its hat to the likes of Pink Floyd, Queen and Kate Bush, in its poetic and powerful scene and artistry. We then move into a more familiar, calming sense of reflection and piano-led intimacy, for Still Life – ultimately an energised anthem, which is no doubt superb to witness in the live setting.
​
During the album’s second half, a touch of something Tori Amos-like leans towards a more classic ballad, for the unforgettable and impassioned Armour of Love. Then we’re taken on a more stirring journey, for the again provocative and intriguing Listen – a big-band crescendo elevating the progression of the song in an unignorable and impactful manner.
​
At the penultimate moment, Born to be with you is divinely performed – piano and voice, riding bass, a rising rhythm, a self-confronting introspection and resulting brightness and power that’s euphoric. Then to finish, unique keys and natural-world fragments lay down a compelling new scene and story, for the creatively poignant poem and supreme musical build up of Fugue; one of several personal favourites.
​
Of all the albums to cross the airwaves this summer, Pertinax is easily the one that most notably prompts you to spend more time with it. A single listen does not suffice, and these ideas, melodies and outbursts stay with you, and leave you wanting to re-explore the intricacies of the full journey.
​
Why this title? What connects these ideas and feelings? There’s so much to unpack, and yet at the same time, the cinematic presence and performative charm of the project lets the music simply engage with and entertain its listener. In short, Pertinax is stunning, and impressively free in its artistic and playful creativity.
By Ian Ureta of Alte Magazine
On Pertinax, Suris Are Out Here Writing Songs About Feeling Too Much
​
There’s something quietly rebellious about an album like Pertinax. Suris, composed of the duo of Lindsey and David Mackie, have decided to make something defiantly sincere. It’s the sound of two people who have been doing this long enough to know better, but went ahead and did it anyway.
​
“Pertinax” literally means “resolute,” which is fitting, because this album refuses to apologize for caring deeply about things. It’s a record full of lush arrangements, dramatic vocals, and uncomfortably honest songwriting; the kind of thing that makes you realize how allergic most modern music has become to risk.
​
The first track, “Mended,” arrives like a transmission from a different era, the place where 70s mysticism and 80s romanticism got drunk together and forgot to go home. Lindsey Mackie sounds like Stevie Nicks if she’d fronted Purity Ring, while David’s production layers shimmering synths and guitar textures that teeter between comfort and unease. The song’s title is optimistic, but the tone isn’t quite; it’s about trying to put yourself back together when the world keeps handing you the wrong pieces. It’s the perfect thesis statement for the album: beauty and ruin, cohabiting politely.
​
“Last Train Home” picks up the tempo, and suddenly you’re in what sounds like an Arcade Fire B-side; if Arcade Fire had the restraint to stop shouting about suburbia for five minutes. The track pulses with urgency but avoids the self-importance that usually comes with that territory. It’s cinematic, but not in a “look, we’ve got string sections!” way; more like the cinematic feeling of being the only person left on the last carriage home, staring at your reflection and wondering if you’ve already missed something important.
​
“Whole” is the point where the album leans into its art-rock credentials. It’s the most obviously Kate Bush-adjacent track here, but what makes it work is Lindsey’s vocal delivery; unguarded to the point of it being conversational, like she’s telling you something too personal but can’t help herself. There’s a fragility in how she phrases the chorus, a kind of emotional risk that feels rare these days. You can tell this isn’t a song built for playlists; it’s one of those tracks that sits quietly in your brain until it decides to hurt you a bit later.
​
Then there’s “Take All She Brings,” which opens with an upbeat, jangly rhythm that could almost fool you into thinking it’s a feel-good track. Spoiler: it’s not. It’s a song about giving too much of time, of love, of energy and realizing that nobody’s coming to refill the tank. It’s got this Florence + The Machine-before-the-theatrics energy, all tambourine and ache. It’s one of the album’s standouts because it weaponizes charm; it sounds sweet, but there’s poison in the sugar.
​
The back half of Pertinax settles into reflection. “Born to Be With You” is a slow, smoky ballad that feels like early Bowie after a long night of thinking too much. It’s patient, self-contained, and utterly sincere. Lindsey’s voice — rich, slightly cracked, full of restraint — carries it effortlessly. It’s a song about companionship, but not in the Hallmark sense; it’s about the quiet, unglamorous kind of love that survives the weather.
​
And then there’s “Fugue.” Oh, “Fugue.” This is the part of the album where Suris stop pretending they’re playing by anyone’s rules. It’s huge, weird, and operatic; imagine if Celine Dion and Björk tried to write a song together, and somehow it worked. The song builds into this layered, dizzying crescendo that feels like a reckoning. Not a conclusion, but an unravelling. It’s the album’s final statement, a reminder that art doesn’t have to resolve to mean something. Sometimes you just end on a sustained note and let it haunt people.
​
What makes Pertinax compelling isn’t just that it’s technically flawless; it’s that it feels lived in. You can hear the fingerprints all over it. The production is detailed but never sterile; the performances are passionate without drifting into melodrama. Suris don’t sound like they’re chasing a sound; they sound like they’ve already found it, years ago, and just decided to polish it into the shape of who they are now.
​
What’s more interesting is how Suris take all those influences and fold them into something unmistakably human. There’s no irony here, no wink at the camera. Pertinax is, at its core, a record about being earnest in an age that keeps trying to convince you not to be.
​
That might be why it hits so hard. Because while everyone else is busy making clever music about detachment, Suris are out here writing songs about feeling too much. And that’s what makes Pertinax special: it’s not trying to be relevant. It’s trying to be real.
By Plastic Magazine
Suris is the musical project of Lindsey and David Mackie, a creative duo from the UK whose work brings together the worlds of atmospheric storytelling and intricate musicianship. Both musicians, composers and producers, they’ve spent years forging a sound that feels timeless and quietly subversive, offering music that shimmers with melodic beauty while carrying something deeper, darker and more human beneath the surface. Built on Lindsey’s vocals and piano compositions and David’s deft guitar work and production, Suris create immersive and thoroughly unique soundscapes.
​
Their collaboration began in their early marriage, though their musical connection predates it; the pair first met as students at the University of East Anglia, crossing paths at a benefit gig for Vietnamese boat people with Lindsey fronting The Clynics, a Siouxsie-meets-Blondie outfit and David on guitar for the punk band Capitalist Music. Both acts appeared on the local compilation Welcome to Norwich – A Fine City, a fitting early sign of two artists destined to merge creative paths. Since then, their musical partnership has become an extension of their life together, developing, persevering and expanding across decades of shared experience.
​
Their sound has often drawn comparisons to artists such as Radiohead, Imogen Heap, Portishead, Kate Bush and Massive Attack, but Suris remain entirely their own. Their songs balance the cinematic and the intimate, the modern and the enduring and while Lindsey’s voice carries an emotive warmth and lyrical reflection, David’s arrangements build the sonic framework. Together, they explore the space between emotion and strength, using music as a form of consideration and persistence.
​
Capturing their sound in the studio over the last five years, they made heir entrance in 2020 with the debut single “Argus,” which they’ve since followed with several singles and full-length records. Now they bring us their latest release with their brand new album titled Pertinax, presenting a thirteen-track voyage through their highly original sound.
​
Suris open their new album with “Mended,” a profoundly personal piece penned while Lindsey was isolating with Covid, crafting a track that reflects on human fragility and the determination that follows life’s unpredictable turns. Inspired by the Japanese art of Kintsugi, it embraces the beauty of imperfection, the idea that cracks and scars tell our stories rather than diminish them. Wrapped up in a hopeful sound of soothing melodies, steady rhythmic energy and colourful arrangement of bright instrumentation, it’s a catchy jam that puts their songwriting appeal and retro-tinged sound on full display.
​
“Last Train Home” follows with warmth and perspective, offering a sense of renewal and love’s steady guidance through familiar landscapes. Wrapped up in a dazzling soundscape of pulsing basslines, tapped percussion and bouncy piano backing, Lindsey’s expressive voice soars above to cast a spectacular experience of jazz-tinged vintage pop music.
​
On “Now,” the duo slow the pace, reminding us to cherish the poignant moments that make life meaningful, delivering a heartfelt musical moment that shines with memorable melodies and elegant instrumentation. Other highlights include songs like “Take All She Brings,” one of the record’s most understated yet thoughtful pieces, a reminder of the complexity and beauty within every person captured in a lively arrangement of punchy drums and infectious vocal performance.
​
“Huma” slowly drifts into focus before taking flight in emphatic fashion, offering an ambitious track about a mythical bird escaping confinement, lifted by a stunning saxophone solo from rising talent Felix Flower. Later, “Listen” offers a moment of grounding, encouraging presence and genuine connection in an increasingly distracted world. Finally, “Fugue” brings the album to a meditative close, tracing a sleepless night through anxiety and fear before arriving at dawn and the hope it brings, laying down the perfect finale to conclude the band’s incredible new LP.
It's not difficult to become intoxicated by the song's introductory melodic context. Conceived around a sharp sound that, curiously, strongly resembles the awakening of Ozzy Osbourne's single "Mr. Tinkertrain," the song invariably invites the listener to venture into an ecosystem of introspective energy. Delicate in its keyboard cadence, the track matures without escalating in its performance, encompassing not only the energetic aspect, but also the melodic, rhythmic, and harmonic. In contrast, the moment a slightly deep female voice emerges, it delivers a generous dose of languor. With a shaking and slightly rough texture offered by the rattle against the percussive spectrum, the work boasts a more palpable rhythmic pace, albeit within a softened landscape. Mended presents itself as a work that ventures into a linear sonic landscape, but which, fortunately, does not diminish its esoteric character in any way.
​
Surprisingly, what happens right from the first sound introductory note of the song is that the listener perceives the piano as acting as percussion, suggesting the rhythmic beat to be followed by the other instruments. Through its low-pitched notes, the element ends up giving the atmosphere not only density, but a striking and intriguing dark touch. The interesting thing here is to notice that, as it evolves, the song explores a theatrical scenography that, at the same time, flirts with a new wave à la Queen and in the style of Fleetwood Mac. Delicate and carefully sweetened, "Last Train Home" is graced by simple percussive elements and a drum kit that displays a charmingly intimate rhythmic tempo based on the opaque sound echoed by the blows on the snare drum. Guaranteeing a subtle degree of sensuality due to the movement adopted by the hi-hat, the track has, in the synthesizer, that element responsible for enveloping it in breezy nuances of a comfortably intoxicating nature.
​
The transcendental and torpor walk hand in hand from the immediate awakening of the composition due to the sonic nature offered by the synthesizer. However, as it develops, the song allows itself to be carried away by a simple rhythmic-melodic scope, yet one that instills striking doses of sensuality. With a slightly classicist, yet unquestionably refined and charming landscape, this ecosystem places the listener in direct contact with seductively hypnotic glimpses of jazz. It is precisely at this moment that Now becomes intoxicated by a refreshing and velvety subtlety, fragilely exposed by the violin waltzes.
​
It's impossible for the listener not to be seduced by the sonic landscape that shapes the introduction of this track. This is because it's governed by a syncopated, yet adorably vulnerable rhythmic compass, in perfect unison with the melody developed by the piano. Sensual and, consequently, seductive, the song brazenly plays with the listener by offering moments of crescendo that, upon reaching their peak, instead of exploding into an energetic and poignant instrumental, return to the same undulating, introspective structure sketched mainly by the piano. Even so, even in terms of lyricism, the cadence followed is the same offered by the dry touch of the hi-hat. With moments of drama, Eruption also allows itself to unveil its melancholic emotional side without deviating from the slight vivacity it offers.
​
The synthetic sound weaves through a slightly acidic sharpness that allows the listener to perceive fleeting folk hints in the developing composition's structure. Dramatic due to the presence of violin sounds, but not necessarily under poignant silhouettes, the track reveals a deep and touching sentimentality sketched in a visceral way by the lyrical interpretation assumed by the vocalist. With slightly melancholic nuances, it's interesting to note that, in a rather audacious way, "Whole" exudes penetrating romantic aromas on the verge of assuming a sticky texture.
​
Here is a vibrant ecosystem, if it can indeed be characterized as such. Engaging and exciting, it rests on a classic harmonic-rhythmic foundation reminiscent of 18th-century ballroom dances. Suggesting refinement and extravagance, details enhanced by the presence of the guitar and its slightly shrill, high-pitched tuning, the song immerses the listener in a rhythmic tempo based on the blues, which invariably lends it a good dose of structural smoothness. Contagious and danceable, but far from being graced by any kind of sensationalism, "Takes All She Brings" offers the listener a menu enveloped mainly in the irresistible and seductive flavor of art rock.
The sound that governs the introductory landscape of this song strongly recalls that eccentric and bucolic sound extracted from a cattle horn. At the same time, this same briefly melodic touch is capable of enveloping the listener in the transcendental amidst a nature that is also capable of being ethereal. Consensually, the song walks through a delicate, introspective, and slightly dramatic foundation, defended exclusively by the way the singer interprets the lyrical narrative. Delicate, yet dense, Huma can offer an ecosystem that is both witty and profoundly intimate.
​
Here is a product that offers a truly memorable sonic journey. Pertinax is not just a product that invites the listener to walk through the utopian, to unveil the ethereal, or to study the transcendental. It uses the mystical, the serene, and the delicate to explore feelings inherent in comfort and coziness, but also in drama and melancholy.
​
And that's hard to find these days. It's difficult to find a product capable of immersing the listener in such complex sonic and structural environments, even if they sound, on the surface, simple and minimalist. It's no coincidence that each of the 13 tracks in Pertinax is like a whole new world unfolding before the listener's sensibilities.
​
To achieve this result so brilliantly, Suris, in the form of Lindsey and David Mackie, took distant flights towards experimentation. From there, Pertinax had its rhythmic-harmonic-melodic structure created, matured, and disseminated through the union of sonic landscapes such as art rock, psychedelic rock, dream pop, and slight remnants of alternative rock, which is quite noticeable in the progression of the first seven tracks that make up the material.
​
Allow yourself. Pertinax is a gateway to another world. The world of utopia. Of the spiritual. Of the ethereal and the transcendental. Shedding the dense layer of worry brought on by the modern world is a prerequisite for experiencing this album in its purest essence and magnitude.
By Music Arena
Before listening to a single note of Suris’ new album, “Pertinax”, I spent a few minutes just looking at the word. Pertinax. It has the distinct ring of a Stoic philosopher’s last defiant utterance or maybe a type of beetle known for its unusually stubborn shell. What a curious flag to fly for a collection of songs in an age of fleeting distraction. But as the atmospheric and soulful world created by Lindsey and David Mackie unfolds, the name’s purpose crystallizes. This is a profound study in persistence—not the loud, chest-thumping kind found in myths, but the quiet, tenacious strength of something that has been broken and has chosen, deliberately, to become whole again.
​
The album opens with the aftershocks. On “after the quake,” we are immediately placed in the debris field of some great upheaval, tasked with “sifting the earth” for what remains. The song and, by extension, the entire album, puts forth a radical idea, one that has made me stop and reconsider the very teacups on my shelf. It refutes the pursuit of a flawless past, declaring, “nothing more beautiful than a mended thing.” This line clicks something into place. It reminds one of the Japanese art of Kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired with lacquer dusted with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. The break is not hidden; it is illuminated, celebrated as a part of the object’s history. This is the philosophy of “Pertinax.”
​
Lindsey Mackie’s voice serves as the golden lacquer throughout. It’s a voice that feels less like it’s singing *at* you and more like it’s narrating a half-remembered fable from inside your own head. It tells its unsettling stories with a smooth, soulful surface, while underneath, Dave Mackie’s production builds entire worlds—part art rock dreamscape, part alt-folk confessional. There are moments when a guitar chord in “Wayman” hangs in the air with the specific weight of a Tuesday afternoon in 1983, when the sunlight through the blinds was thick with dust and possibilities felt both infinite and entirely out of reach.
​
The mending process is not linear. It involves frantic escapes, like the sigh of relief that is “Last Train Home,” a journey away from a “heavy crime” and into the cleansing air of freedom. It involves righteous, system-shattering anger. “Eruption” is a startling jolt, a furious condemnation of an “old man” and the corrupt structures he represents, calling for revolution led by a “woman’s touch.” It argues, compellingly, that some fractures are so deep they cannot be mended personally without also demanding a radical change in the world that caused them. Then there are the necessary acts of personal liberation, of shattering the bell jar that “Huma” describes, of refusing to remain a “Still Life” for the comfort of others.
​
Yet, “Pertinax” understands that strength is not always about defiance. Deeper into the album, a different kind of resilience emerges. In “Armour of Love,” strength is found not in fighting, but in feeling held by a spiritual force. “Take All She Brings” proposes an even more challenging fortitude: the courage to embrace uncertainty and doubt, to stand in the bewildering mess of life and “still believe that you have wings.” This isn’t the armor of battle; it’s the armor of acceptance, forged not from steel, but from grace.
​
The album never pretends the scars disappear. “Born To Be With You” is a raw, tender ache, a testament to the fact that some pieces, no matter how carefully mended, will always signal where the break was. It is the painful acceptance that a love that felt destined must be let go.
​
By the time the final track, “Fugue,” arrives, we are left with a feeling of exhausted, ethereal peace. It’s a desire for dissolution, a plea to be released “into stars” and to escape the nightly trap of the mind. This isn’t defeat. It’s surrender. It’s the ultimate act of stoicism, recognizing that after withstanding, rebuilding, and fighting, the final healing comes from letting go of control. “Pertinax” doesn’t just chronicle a journey toward wholeness; it redefines it.
​
After all is said and done, what if the most resilient thing we can be is not an unbreakable fortress, but a beautifully broken vessel, made more precious by the light that now shines through its cracks?
By Apricot Magazine
Music has always found its strongest roots in persistence, and few embody that word quite like Suris. The husband-and-wife duo, Lindsey and David Mackie, have spent a lifetime weaving sound, emotion, and experience into something distinctly their own. Their new 13-track album Pertinax, released on November 7, 2025, is both a sonic evolution and a philosophical statement. The Latin title translates to “to persist, stoically,” and it captures not just the tone of the record but the story of the artists behind it.
​
Pertinax is an album that feels deeply human. It’s lush yet restrained, bold yet intimate—a delicate balance that comes from two people who have lived, loved, and created together for decades. Lindsey’s textured, haunting vocals guide each track with grace and conviction, while David’s atmospheric guitar and meticulous production sculpt the emotional landscape around her. The result is music that feels timeless, cinematic, and alive, carrying the spirit of artists like Kate Bush, Radiohead, and Fleetwood Mac but filtered through a voice that is unmistakably their own.
​
The story of Suris is as captivating as the music itself. Lindsey and David first crossed paths as students at the University of East Anglia, performing at a benefit concert for the Vietnamese boat people—she fronting The Clynics, he on guitar with punk outfit Capitalist Music. That fateful meeting sparked a lifelong creative partnership that has weathered the changes of time, technology, and the music industry itself. What began as an experimental recording project on a four-track cassette blossomed into a decades-long exploration of sound and storytelling. They’ve built their artistic world brick by brick, driven by instinct, curiosity, and an unwavering devotion to their craft.
​
From the opening notes of Mended, it’s clear that Pertinax is a record of reflection and endurance. Written during isolation, the song draws inspiration from the Japanese art of Kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired with gold, highlighting cracks rather than hiding them. Lindsey’s lyrics mirror that philosophy, celebrating imperfection as a form of beauty and experience. The song’s soft piano and understated percussion give way to soaring harmonies, evoking both fragility and strength. It’s a perfect entry point into an album that thrives on contrast—light and shadow, pain and peace, decay and renewal.
​
Last Train Home shifts the perspective inward, a meditation on gratitude and rediscovery. Lindsey’s voice glows with warmth as she sings about finding meaning in the familiar, the comfort of returning home after long detours. The music feels cinematic, with shimmering guitar lines and delicate layers of synths suggesting both nostalgia and hope. It’s the sound of dusk meeting dawn, of perspective earned through time.
​
On Now, Suris dive into the art of presence. It’s a subtle but profound song, one that captures the power of stillness. The arrangement is minimalist but full of texture, each note placed with intention. Felix Flower’s saxophone adds a touch of longing, wrapping around Lindsey’s vocals like smoke. It’s the kind of track that feels both immediate and eternal—a reminder to slow down, to breathe, to simply exist in the moment.
​
Then there’s Eruption, one of the album’s most striking moments. Fueled by frustration and clarity, the song confronts political hubris and societal decay with fierce conviction. It’s both a rallying cry and a release of anger, where Lindsey’s commanding voice rides atop distorted guitars and pulsing percussion. Yet even in its urgency, there’s precision—a testament to the duo’s ability to blend passion with poise.
​
Whole stands out as a hymn of defiance and solidarity. Written as a response to women’s oppression around the world, it culminates in a powerful chorus sung by a collective of female friends dubbed “the Persisters.” The track swells with emotion and purpose, its layered vocals creating an almost spiritual resonance. It’s protest music in its purest form—personal, powerful, and unwaveringly empathetic.
​
Across Pertinax, Lindsey and David prove that their creative synergy is their greatest strength. Every track feels like a conversation between them—a dance of ideas, emotions, and textures that blurs the line between artist and muse. On Huma, for instance, they craft a breathtaking allegory about freedom through the flight of a mythical bird. The song unfolds without repetition, mirroring the unpredictability of escape itself, and Felix Flower’s saxophone solo soars like the creature taking wing. Still Life, on the other hand, turns its gaze inward, questioning our obsession with capturing moments instead of living them. It’s a quiet but poignant reflection on modern life’s paradoxes.
​
Even the smaller, more intimate moments carry profound weight. Wayman tells the story of a lover returning too late, drenched in regret and melancholy, while Armour of Love draws strength from faith, referencing Ephesians to express divine protection and peace. Listen brings the focus back to human connection, urging empathy and attention in a world that’s forgotten how to truly hear.
​
By the time the album reaches its final act—Born to Be With You and Fugue—it feels like a journey completed. The former aches with unfulfilled longing, a ghost of love that refuses to fade, while the latter closes the record in quiet triumph. Fugue traces a sleepless night through fear, memory, and finally dawn’s gentle arrival. It’s a masterful finale, echoing the album’s central theme: persistence through pain, light through darkness.
​
The brilliance of Pertinax lies not just in its compositions but in its honesty. Lindsey and David Mackie don’t chase trends or overproduction. Their music breathes because it’s real—crafted by two artists who know that art doesn’t need perfection, only purpose. Their ability to play nearly every instrument themselves gives the album a rare intimacy, while their production choices create a sense of vastness that feels cinematic.
​
For Suris, Pertinax isn’t just another release—it’s the culmination of a life lived in music. It’s the sound of a marriage, a collaboration, a shared philosophy of endurance and grace. In an era where so much music feels fleeting, this record lingers. It asks you to listen, to think, to feel. It’s a work of art that honors the cracks, the mending, and the persistence that holds it all together.
​
With Pertinax, Suris have not only proven their place among the greats of art rock and dream pop—they’ve created a testament to the quiet power of endurance. It’s a record that doesn’t shout for attention but earns it, one that will keep unfolding new meanings with every listen. In its depth, courage, and beauty, Pertinax reminds us that persistence isn’t just survival—it’s art itself.
By Iggy Magazine
With Pertinax , Lindsey and David Mackie, the British duo forming Suris, offer an album that sounds gentle to the ear but hides a depth that is often subversive. The title, meaning "to persist stoically," perfectly encapsulates the couple's mindset: music is not simply a creative endeavor, it is a way of life, an intimate, almost marital discipline.
​
The album opens with "Mended ," where Lindsey explores human fragility through the philosophy of kintsugi, the Japanese art of elevating flaws rather than concealing them. Her rich, textured voice, supported by delicate arrangements, immediately establishes an atmosphere that is both fragile and resolute. Tracks like " Last Train Home" and "Now" follow , meditations on time and precious moments, alternating between distant horizons and inner contemplation.
​
Anger and indignation also find their place: "Eruption" is a cry against the abuse of power, while " Whole" becomes a feminist anthem, amplified by the participation of friends of the duo for the finale of "Persisters." Musically, Suris plays with conventions, sometimes breaking classical structures to better serve the emotion. Felix Flower's saxophone on " Huma" or " Now" adds an ethereal and liberating dimension, contrasting with the darker themes.
​
Pertinax is an album that isn't just listened to: it's felt. Between introspection, rebellion, and wonder, Suris succeeds in creating an intimate and universal work, a space where persistence becomes an act of beauty and courage.
By James Kerr
High Wycombe, England-based alternative band Suris has unleashed their new album, Pertinax. Suris is a musical duo consisting of members Lindsey and David Mackie.
Their third full-length album is a stunning 13-track project that blends elements of alternative rock, dream pop, and art rock. Rich sonic tapestries are created with warm guitar riffs, fuzzy bass, ethereal pads, and cinematic rhythms. Enchanting vocals flutter along the instrumentation with a haunting presence.
The combination results in nostalgic yet innovative soundscapes imbued with strange and unusual storytelling. Suris’ new album, Pertinax, is a soul-stirring journey and the perfect addition to any indie playlist.
By Mike Mineo
A fantastic new album from English duo Suris, Pertinax fuses atmospheric art-pop, nostalgic rock, and immersive storytelling. Anchored by Lindsey Mackie’s emotive vocals and consuming songwriting, the record balances lush, cinematic arrangements with more expressive bursts, revealing layers of nuance and reflection. Alongside Mackie’s songwriting, David Mackie’s production, mixing, and instrumental contributions ensure a polished yet enjoyably unpredictable sound.
​
A captivating album opener, “Mended” channels themes of restorative power with a dynamic tonal expanse — rising from twinkling keys into rousing guitar tones and a multi-layered vocal beckoning to “hold on.” Shades of The Associates and Kate Bush show in the lovely aesthetic, bridging lush art-pop and nostalgic rock mystique. A meditation on resilience and the beauty of repair, the song frames imperfection as a source of grace and continuity with poetic precision, exemplified in the “nothing more beautiful than a mended thing” line.
​
The ensuing “Last Train Home” is another standout, bringing forth illuminated piano tones and starry-eyed synth pulsations. While its reserved soundscape conjures the sophisti-pop of The Blue Nile, the vibrant vocal efforts strut a charismatic effervescence — compelling in capturing serenity found in cyclical moments of connection. The album’s production dazzles in its balancing of atmosphere and emotion.
​
The successes continue after this strong opening one-two punch, particularly with “Huma.” Its structural evolution compels in its drive to glistening piano and riveting brass, complementing themes of suffocation and self-discovery with melodic prowess. From the melding of blaring organs and soulfulness on “Armour of Love” to the cinematic balladry of closer “Fugue,” the quality throughout the album never lets up. Pertinax is a lovely, immersive listening experience from Suris.
By Austin Sher
Suris serve up a genre-complex record with "Pertinax"
With Pertinax, the husband-and-wife duo Suris, Lindsey and David Mackie, have crafted a work that feels incredibly timeless and forward-thinking, a lush record that embraces art rock ambition with pop precision. Across thirteen songs and forty-six minutes, the album unfolds like a cinematic journey, equal parts dreamscape and confession. For us, it invited us to slow down and savor its rich emotional and endless detail.
​
The Mackies have been refining their craft for years, and that experience radiates through Pertinax. Lindsey’s voice, a marvel of texture and range, sits at the center of it all. Undoubtedly, it’s soulful, ethereal, and quietly commanding. She doesn’t just sing, she makes you feel these songs. Every note is intentional, shaped by the stories she’s telling. Her vocals have that sort of haunting mystique reminiscent of Kate Bush, yet there’s something wholly distinctive about the way she delivers a lyric. From start to finish, saying we were hooked on every line would still be an understatement.
​​
David’s production work is equally impressive, enveloping Lindsey’s voice in layers of guitars, synths, and atmospheric flourishes that recall the artistry of Radiohead and the dreamlike expansiveness of 70’s and 80’s prog rock at times. The result is a record that feels handcrafted with a vision that somehow delivers the literal highest quality song after song after song. There’s a sense of patience to Pertinax too, as if the band is daring listeners to lean in, to notice the quiet magic that lives between it all.
​
Despite the polish, the album never feels overworked or like they’re actively doing too much. Suris’s music hums with emotional tension. Beneath the smoothness and those always awesome lush orchestrations, there’s always something a little unsettling. It’s those minor chords that tug at the edges of comfort. That subtle subversion is what makes this album so compelling. It’s beautiful, yes, but never predictable, ever! Particularly we felt that “Now”, “Whole”, and “Still Life” really took on those worlds of unpredictability the best. But, you’d be a fool if you didn’t listen to the entire album in full.
​
Again on the production, it’s warm, balanced, and expansive. The synths shimmer with nostalgic charm, the guitars soar and dissolve in equal measure, and the piano work grounds everything with emotional clarity. It’s an album that nods to classic influences while remaining unmistakably modern, a sound that could only come from artists who understand both restraint and indulgence in equal measure. There’s even some horns that come into play that certainly took us by surprise, but added some depth to the already jam packed sound.
​​
We can’t help but say that we felt a ton of euphoria as well. It’s an album that rewards attention, demanding that you stop and listen rather than rush past the songs like singles. It feels handcrafted for late nights, for anyone who loves music that’s as introspective as it is cinematic.
With Pertinax, Suris haven’t just met the highest standards of songwriting, musicianship, and production, they’ve surpassed them. The album is a rare blend of intelligence and emotion, style and substance.
​​
Truthfully, we’ve got nothing but positives to point out here, this record rocks.
By Elvis Ampaabeng
Suris’ “Pertinax” — A Rich and Thoughtful Exploration of Life and Love
Suris, the collaborative project of Lindsey and David Mackie, presents an album that is as intimate as it is ambitious. “Pertinax” combines textured vocals, atmospheric instrumentation, and storytelling that is both unsettling and beautiful. From the opening track Mended, listeners are drawn into a reflection on fragility and imperfection, with Lindsey’s voice carrying the philosophy of embracing flaws like cracks in repaired pottery. Last Train Home follows with a sense of guidance and warmth, evoking the comfort of familiar paths and enduring love. The title track, Now, emphasizes presence and appreciation, encouraging listeners to pause and savor the small, fleeting moments that make life meaningful.
​
The album balances personal reflection with broader social commentary. Eruption channels frustration at systemic failings, while Whole stands as an anthem of defiance and female solidarity, highlighted by a communal chorus of voices. Tracks like Take All She Brings and Huma explore liberation and self-acceptance, with Huma featuring a stunning saxophone solo from Felix Flower that punctuates the song’s narrative of breaking free. Still Life challenges our tendency to observe life through a lens rather than live in it, while Wayman and Born to Be With You navigate the complexities of love, regret, and missed opportunities.
​
Suris closes the album with contemplative pieces such as Armour of Love, Listen, and Fugue, each underscoring resilience, faith, and hope. The Mackies’ skill in blending art-rock, dream pop, and subtle progressive elements creates an album that feels both timeless and modern. Across Pertinax, Lindsey’s lyrics and vocals are beautifully supported by David’s production, mixing, and instrumentation, producing a cohesive, immersive experience. The result is a record that invites listeners to reflect, persist, and find beauty in both the ordinary and the extraordinary moments of life.
By Carl Maloney
There’s a quiet kind of confidence running through Pertinax, the new album from High Wycombe duo Suris. It doesn’t come kicking down the door demanding your attention – it glides in, sure of its footing, trusting you’ll lean closer to catch the details. And you should, because this record is full of them.
​
Formed by Lindsey and David Mackie, Suris operate in their own little sonic world – somewhere between the spectral art-rock of Kate Bush and the intricate melancholy of Radiohead, with a glimmer of Fleetwood Mac’s melodic warmth for good measure. Lindsey’s voice, equal parts velvet and voltage, sits at the heart of it all – a storyteller’s voice, textured and fearless, wrapping around lyrics that are equal parts beauty and unease.
​
Opener “Mended” is a slow bloom, built on piano and atmosphere. It’s the kind of track that doesn’t rush to impress – instead, it builds trust. You can feel David’s production choices straight away: detailed, patient, not afraid of silence. “Last Train Home” brings a bit more movement, a subtle ache that grows with every line. There’s a restless energy under the calm, the sound of two musicians holding something heavy but refusing to drop it.
​
“Now” and “Eruption” are where things get cinematic. “Now” stretches out into widescreen territory, while “Eruption” simmers and then bursts, all shimmering piano and tightly-wound tension. You can hear the Radiohead influence peeking through – not in imitation, but in the way Suris build emotional architecture out of small, precise details.
​
The centre of the record – “Whole,” “Take All She Brings,” and “Huma” – shows off their range. “Whole” feels like dusk falling, wistful and warm, while “Huma” is ghostly and atmospheric, the vocals drifting like mist across the mix. There’s a strong sense of mood across the album, the kind that makes you want to play it from start to finish rather than shuffle it into playlists.
​
“Still Life” and “Wayman” strip things back and let the intimacy through. You can almost picture the room they were recorded in – dim lights, cables everywhere, a sense of creative trust between them. It’s a rare kind of chemistry.
​
Then comes “Armour of Love,” a clear highlight for me and the most immediate cut here. It’s dream-pop in spirit but carried by something tougher underneath – a heartbeat that feels human rather than digital. “Listen” slows things down again, almost fragile in delivery, as if the album itself is exhaling before the finish line.
​
The closing pair “Born To Be With You” and “Fugue” round things off with style and precision. “Born…” feels timeless, a subtle nod to that 70s melodic craft they do so well, while “Fugue” is hypnotic and unresolved – the kind of track that leaves you staring into space long after it ends.
​
If there’s a criticism, it’s that Pertinax sometimes plays it a little too smooth. The polish, while impressive, can occasionally dull the edges – you find yourself craving just one moment of raw chaos, a crack in the glass. But that’s nit-picking a record that clearly knows exactly what it wants to be.
Suris have made something refined, cinematic and quietly subversive – an album that whispers rather than shouts, but hits all the harder for it. Pertinax is the latest album from a band already comfortable in their own world. The rest of us are just lucky to be invited in.
With Pertinax, Suris — the husband-and-wife duo Lindsey and David Mackie — deliver a record that feels both intimate and cinematic. Every track carries a quiet confidence, wrapped in poetic lyricism and rich instrumentation that evokes the golden age of art rock while sounding wholly original. It’s an album that rewards close listening, full of moments that shimmer and haunt long after they fade.
​
The opener, “Mended,” sets the tone beautifully. Inspired by the Japanese art of Kintsugi, it transforms fragility into strength, with Lindsey’s vocals gliding over warm piano and subtle guitar textures. “Last Train Home” follows with reflective grace — a song about returning to love and clarity, built around a hypnotic rhythm and glowing harmonies.
“Now” captures a rare stillness, a moment of presence rendered in delicate keys and hushed emotion. Then comes “Eruption,” a fiery protest anthem aimed at power’s corruption — its restrained fury gives way to one of the album’s most striking climaxes. “Whole” is an anthem of resilience, bolstered by a chorus of female voices that lend it depth and solidarity. “Take All She Brings” and “Wayman” explore the complexities of love and loss, each blending soulful storytelling with classic songwriting craft.
​
“Huma” is a standout — an otherworldly flight of liberation with Felix Flower’s saxophone soaring through the mix like a cry of freedom. “Still Life” pulls listeners back to Earth with a reminder to live beyond the lens, while “Armour of Love” offers spiritual grounding in faith. The closing tracks, “Listen,” “Born to Be with You,” and “Fugue,” bring reflection and redemption — from empathy to sleepless introspection to the first light of hope.
Pertinax is aptly titled — steadfast, artful, and unflinching. It’s a record that doesn’t just persist; it endures.
With Pertinax, Suris — the long-standing creative partnership of Lindsey and David Mackie — deliver an album that feels both timeless and quietly radical. The title means “to persist, stoically,” and that spirit runs through every corner of the record. After decades of writing, recording, and evolving together, the duo now create with a confidence where craft, instinct, and emotional truth meet in rare balance.
Suris’s sound has often been compared to Kate Bush, Radiohead, Lorde, Lana Del Rey and Fleetwood Mac, and echoes of those artists weave naturally through the album. Yet Pertinax is unmistakably their own: smooth, atmospheric orchestration layered with something darker and more subversive beneath the surface. Lindsey’s rich, textured vocals carry narratives that feel both intimate and unusual, while Dave’s production gives each track depth without ever over-polishing the edges.
​
Their long history together shapes the emotional weight of the album. Meeting as students at the University of East Anglia, the Mackies bonded through early gigs in Norwich’s punk and alt-rock circles. Starting off with just a four-track cassette recorder, they built sounds that caught the attention of Ensign Records and later Polygram, only to have life — loss, family, circumstance — re-route their trajectory. That history of resilience and self-sufficiency now feels central to their creative identity, giving Pertinax a sense of maturity untainted by ego.
​
The album opens with “Mended,” inspired by the Japanese practice of Kintsugi. Written during Covid isolation, it reflects on fragility, repair and acceptance of life’s cracks, treating imperfection as a mark of survival. “Last Train Home” shifts into warmer territory, offering a soft meditation on seeing familiar things with new clarity. Its companion piece, “Now,” urges listeners to pause and dwell in the present instead of chasing distant horizons. Suris also lean into social and political tension. “Eruption” is a sharp, tightly wound critique of those in power, reminding us that democratic change ultimately lies with the people.
In “Whole,” a defiant ode to women resisting danger or oppression, a chorus of Lindsey’s female friends — the “Persisters” — joins in, giving the final section a powerful communal lift. Other tracks explore stories that feel deeply human. “Take All She Brings” reflects on the complexity within all of us; “Wayman” tells of a lover returning too late; and “Born to Be With You” captures the ache of a love that refuses to loosen its grip.
“Still Life” critiques our obsession with documenting life rather than living it, while “Listen” asks for true presence and attention in a world full of distraction. One of the album’s boldest moments is “Huma,” a cinematic story of a mythical bird escaping confinement. The track is intentionally claustrophobic until its final release, which arrives with a soaring saxophone solo from Felix Flower. It’s a moment that feels like the album taking flight. The closer, “Fugue,” drifts through a sleepless night of fears before arriving at the soft light of dawn, ending the record with hope.
Pertinax is the work of two artists who have refined their voice over decades, quietly but persistently. It is elegant without being delicate, experimental without pretension, and emotionally honest without slipping into cliché. Suris have created an album that rewards deep listening and lingers long after the last note fades. If persistence had a soundtrack, this would be it.
By Michael Jamo
Suris’ “Pertinax” Album Is Beauty, Defiance, and the Art of Persistence
Suris, the creative partnership of Lindsey and David Mackie, arrives with “Pertinax,” a timeless and daringly original album. The duo crafts a world where atmospheric art rock meets soulful introspection, pairing Lindsey’s textured, emotive vocals with intricate arrangements that shimmer with subtle rebellion.
Lindsey (piano/keys, songwriter) and Dave (guitars/bass, producer) form the heartbeat of Suris. Their chemistry, refined through marriage and music, gives ‘Pertinax’ its emotional depth and fearless experimentation. The production is warm and immersive, weaving acoustic and electric tones with cinematic grace. Every track feels like a confession whispered through velvet and steel. Let’s do a track-by-track reflection.
​
Opening with gentle piano lines and Lindsey’s soulful, textured vocals, ‘Mended’ sets a reflective tone right away. It’s a song of acceptance and restoration, inspired by the Japanese art of Kintsugi—repairing broken pottery with gold. Lindsey’s delivery is tender but quietly defiant, embodying the beauty in imperfection. David’s delicate guitar textures and subtle production choices give the song a crystalline purity, allowing every emotional crack to shimmer.
​
There’s something beautifully nostalgic about ‘Last Train Home.’ The track feels like a dusky ride through memory, with softly glowing instrumentation that recalls the warmth of candlelight through a train window. Lindsey’s phrasing is magnetic, and each word is carried by genuine affection and introspection. The guitar and bass interplay here is beautiful, providing a steady pulse that mirrors the rhythm of travel and the comfort of love’s guiding light.
​
The third song, ‘Now,’ captures mindfulness in musical form. This piece is a reminder to stay grounded in the present. Lindsey’s vocals hover gracefully over lush keys and dreamlike atmospherics, while the layered harmonies evoke a serene calm. There’s an ethereal Radiohead-esque air here, which is grounded by a soulful intimacy unique to Suris.
​
A more assertive turn, ‘Eruption’ channels frustration and conviction through cinematic rock textures. David’s production shines here. His guitar tones are sharp with a dynamic arrangement that conveys protest and power. Lindsey’s delivery has fire, balancing controlled anger with poetic grace. It’s a song that demands attention and invites action. It’s a stirring artistic statement about political and moral responsibility.
​
A feminist anthem disguised as an intimate ballad, ‘Whole’ stands out as one of the album’s most powerful emotional moments. Lindsey’s voice soars with defiance and solidarity, especially as the chorus expands with the collective voices of women. It’s goosebump-inducing, both musically and spiritually.
​
In ‘Take all she brings,’ Suris turns inward again with a simpler, more organic arrangement. The song’s honesty and warmth radiate through Lindsey’s voice, full of tenderness and humanity. Dave’s understated accompaniment complements her perfectly, letting the lyrics breathe and resonate.
​
One of the most haunting and ambitious tracks on Pertinax, ‘Huma’ tells the story of a mythical bird’s escape from confinement. The track unfolds like a short film, progressing without repetition until the cathartic saxophone solo by Felix Flower takes flight. The production here is a marvel—dense, moody, and liberating all at once.
​
A meditation on the human tendency to view life through a lens rather than live it, ‘Still Life’ feels modern and timeless. Lindsey’s introspective lyrics are beautifully mirrored by Dave’s minimal yet poignant instrumentation. There’s a bittersweet serenity in her delivery, like an artist reflecting on a masterpiece they can’t quite touch.
​
With a wistful and melancholic tone, ‘Wayman’ tells the tale of a love too late to rekindle. The guitar lines feel weathered, almost conversational, while Lindsey’s performance aches with authenticity. It’s a story told with grace rather than bitterness—a quiet acceptance of love lost to time.
​
Drawing inspiration from Ephesians 6:10-17, ‘Armour of Love’ radiates spiritual warmth and strength. Lindsey’s vocals convey faith as a shield and a comfort, wrapped in a lush soundscape that blends sacred calm with pop sophistication. It’s deeply moving without ever preaching, just pure devotion rendered in song.
​
With its inviting tone and rhythmic pulse, ‘Listen’ is a reminder to be present and attentive. It’s a companion piece to ‘Now,’ but with more urgency. The subtle layering of harmonies and percussive textures enhances the theme of connection, reinforcing the duo’s gift for marrying message and mood.
​
There’s a dreamy ache at the core of ‘Born to be with you.’ Lindsey’s voice carries longing like a distant echo, and Dave’s instrumentation paints a backdrop that’s equal parts sorrowful and romantic. The restraint in arrangement and delivery is breathtaking; less is indeed more here.
​
The perfect closer. ‘Fugue’ takes us through the restless night and into dawn, symbolizing hope’s gentle return. It’s a gradual build, both emotional and sonic—that feels like exhaling after holding your breath for the entire album. The final moments linger beautifully, a whisper that fades but never disappears.
​
Lindsey Mackie’s vocals are the album’s glowing centerpiece. They are rich, expressive, and multi-dimensional. She doesn’t just sing lyrics; she embodies them. Each song feels lived-in, her phrasing deliberate yet organic. David’s production perfectly complements her artistry, is subtle where needed, and expansive when emotion demands it. Their synergy, both musical and marital, is palpable throughout Pertinax, creating an intimate yet cinematic sound, polished yet profoundly human.
​
The instrumentation, largely performed by the pair themselves, showcases remarkable versatility. There’s a painter’s touch to every mix decision; textures blend like watercolor, with space left intentionally for listeners to dream inside the songs.
​
Overall, ‘Pertinax’ is a triumph of emotional depth and artistic persistence. It’s a rare fusion of intellect, spirit, and heart. Suris have crafted a record that resists easy categorization but rewards patient listening with layer upon layer of meaning. Every note feels intentional, every lyric purposeful. As Lindsey sings of brokenness, resilience, and transcendence, and Dave frames her voice with light and shadow, you realize: this isn’t just an album. It’s a portrait of love, art, and endurance—a testament to two artists who persist, stoically and beautifully.
The husband-and-wife duo Suris arrive with their album *Pertinax* bearing the weight of decades spent refining their craft in relative obscurity. Lindsey and David Mackie's journey from Norwich's post-punk scene through major label interest, personal tragedy, and the unglamorous realities of parenthood has forged something rather remarkable: an album that refuses easy categorization whilst maintaining an unwavering commitment to emotional authenticity.
*Pertinax* – Latin for "to persist, stoically" – serves as both manifesto and autobiography. The Mackies have persisted indeed, and this collection of thirteen tracks demonstrates precisely why such doggedness matters. Lindsey's vocals possess a theatrical richness that invites the inevitable Kate Bush comparisons, yet her delivery carries less ethereal whimsy and more earthbound gravitas. These are songs written by someone who has weathered genuine storms rather than merely observed them from a comfortable distance.
The opening track "Mended" establishes the album's philosophical foundation through the Japanese art of Kintsugi – repairing broken pottery with gold, transforming damage into beauty. Lindsey's exploration of fragility and repair, prompted by Covid isolation, avoids mawkish sentiment through sophisticated melodic architecture. David's production creates space for contemplation without resorting to minimalism; layers of instrumentation reveal themselves gradually, rewarding repeated listening.
"Eruption" channels political fury with remarkable restraint. Rather than descending into polemic, the track builds tension through rhythmic insistence and carefully calibrated dynamics. The Mackies understand that rage expressed through measured artistry often proves more devastating than simple volume. Felix Flower's saxophone work on both this track and the stunning "Huma" adds textural sophistication, his playing suggesting influences ranging from Morphine's noir-jazz to the more adventurous edges of contemporary progressive music.
"Huma" itself stands as the album's centrepiece achievement. The track's deliberate rejection of conventional verse-chorus structure serves the narrative – a fantastic bird escaping confinement – with admirable discipline. The song moves forward relentlessly until its subject achieves freedom, at which point Flower's saxophone solo soars with precisely the liberation the lyrics describe. It's a bold compositional choice that succeeds through sheer conviction.
The album's feminist statement "Whole" demonstrates how political music can function without sacrificing artistic merit. Inviting female friends to join the final chorus – dubbed "the Persisters" – transforms individual defiance into collective resistance. The arrangement builds from intimate confession to communal declaration, Lindsey's rich vocals anchored by David's understated but propulsive guitar work.
Throughout *Pertinax*, the Mackies display their multi-instrumentalist credentials with impressive range. Piano, guitars, bass, and keyboards interweave with organic fluidity, the product of a musical partnership honed over decades. David's production, mixing, and mastering never call attention to themselves yet create sonic environments perfectly suited to each song's emotional terrain. "Still Life" shimmers with layered textures whilst maintaining clarity; "Fugue" captures nocturnal anxiety through disquieting harmonies before dawn's resolution arrives with genuine catharsis.
The couple's background – from Norwich's post-punk scene through dalliances with Ensign and Polygram, derailed by managerial tragedy and parenthood – informs every corner of this record. These aren't songs crafted for playlist algorithms or festival singalongs. They demand engagement, offering rewards proportional to the attention invested.
*Pertinax* occupies territory somewhere between art rock's intellectual ambitions and dream pop's emotional directness, filtered through a distinctly British sensibility that values understatement over bombast. The Mackies have created an album that justifies their decades of persistence – sophisticated, unsettling, and utterly their own. One hopes the music industry, so often distracted by youth and novelty, recognizes what maturity and genuine partnership can achieve.