This is an EP to blast into repeat mode, zoning out in any place. Polyhymns supplies a pattern of flux and flexibility that runs through the musical palette, streaming minimal structures, and emotional tenor. Textures of this reality offer a crisp and clear notion, the percussive beats and wonderful classical guitar melodies erase hierarchy, everything remains linear. The Hybrid Sunday title is influenced from the Sheffield’s Hybrid 3 rehearsal rooms. Since the band had found it difficult practicing, with the noise from other bands trumpeting from the other rooms, that they took to recording solely on Sundays. During, which, Rob Gordon (co-founder of Warp Records) mastered their final tracks, while lending his Korg synthesizer to the band.
Released September 4, 2020, through Do It Thissen Records, Hybrid Sunday came as a limited 10″ lathe-cut vinyl.

JK introduces acoustic guitar, swooping to mellifluous rhythms, aided clapping patterns, with jovial swings in an auburn fireside light. Finely tuned drums enter with simple measures marking a galloping pace. Vocals harmonize, echoically, and aid the trickling pleasures JK puts forth. Cymbals bash, fluidly, through the glorious chorus, while the guitar wisps into a seaside dream and the waves of past and future merge into frequency and flowers, opening with the sweet, mellow vocals, to the next track, Uunboxers. Creative uses with feedback interplay with melody; and with stylized production reminiscent of Coolio or Gangsta Boys, as a retro hip-hop percussive device enters with pulsing, thumping bass kicks. The song relaxes in the wonderful, somnolent mélange of easily traversed drum patterns, sequenced with refreshing vocals, swarming us into the guitar’s melody. When instruments aboard their uniform vessel, it erupts in a choric empyrean, an empire of the most luscious textures, coupled by a love streaming through the tracks orphic, singing us into a delightful cloak of creative energy. The passageway revealed were subtly lost in an unconscious exploration of this ethereal space, in memory and experience, entering the next song in a kind of dream.
Toes starts with retro-synth patterns delaying acute arpeggiators, congealed in twinkling lights, illuminating the background, nourished when connecting the rest of the sounds. Sonic organisms are neither animated nor autonomous but always building, derived from one, and woven through all. When the drums assemble, this energy continues to soar. Especially in the bass’s groove, which pushes and swings our hearts through the beat. The vocals of Polyhymns dance on an audible, calming whisper.
Glyn is another breakdown of smooth programs showcasing the drums in a loose charade of hi-hats breaking and sizzling under the heat of crisp skins. Organs and sonic life blanket the atmosphere, grazing the bass’s landscape, delineating the music’s atmosphere. As simple as the song may be, less is more; and with the sounds of the ’70s blasting through new-age speakers, this has been the style of music that defined the turtleneck style, or ‘make sure hair is past our ears.’ And, it always will be, until an apocalypse obliterates civilization (a.k.a, the end of time).