On their third and final album, Codeine’s music is at its most distilled. They’ve changed drummers, and with Doug Scharin focused on the kit only, the sound is pared back yet further; the songs take the time they need to do what they need to do, which means opener “Sea” stretches out to seven glorious minutes, its pacing glacial. The White Birch is the most washed-out sounding of Codeine’s three albums, as though it’s been subjected to aging processes, a faded photograph of an album; this only helps to reinforce its emotional weight, which seems to centre around a kind of numbed resignation to reality. There’s greater confidence in the song writing, too, a surer sense of leaving elements to be – spindly guitars, hollowed bass, carefully plotted rhythms.