When Editors formed in 2002, guitar bands were all the rage in England. Oasis were still enjoying a victory lap, Blur were pivoting from keyboard-centred melodies to the six-string, the Darkness were making a name for themselves, and Arctic Monkeys were to follow in their wake. It’s 2026, and these acts are far less visible, so it’s a pleasant surprise to find something as melodically rich as Surface, Echo & Sound, Editors‘ eighth record as a studio proposition. You hear sprinkles of keyboards on “Shadow”, yet the hook dominates the project as a whole.
Justin Lockey shares guitar duties with bandmates Elliott Williams and Tom Smith. “The Rush” barrels through with a chiming barrage of instrumentation, lit up by pummelling drums; percussionist Ed Lay batters on the track, like a boxer preparing for a brawl. The Smiths‘ imprint shows in the arrangement, though Tom Smith’s singing voice is giddier and less intensely morose than Morrissey’s. “Rescue”, a torrent of major chords and soaring vocal leaps, is gently carried by yearning countermelody, pleasantly reminiscent of the Edge’s work on How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb.
Bassist Russell Leetch plays with economy, emphasising the emotional undercurrents, especially on “Call It In”, where he creates a frenzy that matches the lovelorn lyrics. His performance shifts gear on “The Rush”, where he embodies Bernard Edwards, imbuing it with a fun, funky palette. “Happiness” lands with an ironic edge, a disconcerting mandolin picking up the dreampop piece.
“Serendipity burns,” Smith intones, demanding that the relationship the tune is based on is unequivocally “over.” Leetch gallops between a triumvirate of guitars, bringing melody where the others go for a harder-edged attack. Smith is joined by a chorale of singers, each stating that their mortal body is indeed something holier and more watery.
Much as the Darkness did on 2025’s Dreams on Toast, the band, particularly Smith, aren’t afraid to sound vulnerable, no matter how aggressive and aggrandising the instrumentation is. Rollicking rockers “Butterfly Wings” and “Real” see Smith singing from the bottom of his gut, summoning an unpleasant memory private to him, and forgiving his past transgressions through melody. Lay’s command of tom-tom on “Real” is characteristically excellent.
A musician, presumably Lockey, replicates a slide guitar arpeggio on “Seriously”, tipping his hat back to the Travelling Wilburys. The title song, by contrast, is a bluesy composition, delivered on wooden guitars. When Oasis reunited in 2025, they included three men on lead, so this formula evidently works for other bands, not just Editors.
Jingle-jangler “Much Love” should sound strong at a festival, as long as the rhythm section maintains the hypnotic, shoegazey groove. Closing number “The Hills We Died Upon” has an emotional guitar solo that feeds the lyrical themes in a quirky, quaint demonstration. “Seriously” is impossibly infectious and has the greatest potential to become a hit single on this album, although many of the ballads here are formidable. Smith’s words aren’t cryptic or labyrinthine; they leap from inside him. One of rock’s key strengths is honesty, and Surface, Echo & Sound is wrapped in that facet, making for a deeply human listening experience.
Guitar bands are becoming rarer in this electronic market, and Editors unwisely flirted with samplers on the regrettable EBM album in 2022. Smith sounds much more relaxed this time around, noting that this is the lane he belongs in and that he can determine the speed, velocity, and tempo. Editors haven’t felt so in control of their destiny in some time, and the listener is all the better for it.