IT'S taken a saint's patience not to rush the doors at Bernard Butler's London hideaway and insist on access to the mixing desk containing the embryonic tunes on Sons and Daughters third album.
But we waited. Two years, seven months we twiddled our thumbs. Until finally, This Gift emerged and rewarded us handsomely. It's the Glaswegian group's finest album yet; they're louder, angrier... and clutching a library card.
Removed from the dramas of her kitchen sink life, frontwoman Adele Bethel finds herself empathising with Sylvia Plath and trashing contemporary culture. Perhaps her time on tour with Morrissey had more of an influence than she thought? Or perhaps it's what we suspected all along: that Sons and Daughters have finally come of age.