How many members will this lot have by the time they next return to the studio? It’s not a frivolous question. Honest. When Frightened Rabbit first started making music, the name was actually just the monikor Scott Hutchinson chose to record and perform under. Over time, like some sort of sadistic musical spider, he has caught increasing numbers of musicians in his web and used them for his own purposes – “DANCE FOR ME, MINIONS! DANCE FOR ME! MWAHAHAHA”, is what he almost certainly did not shout.

Getting away from Scott’s latent arachno-humanoid tendencies when it comes to snaring members for the band – or maybe 'Frightened Rabbit' was a sort of clue, hinting at what the musicians resembled most when Scott would entrap them into being his troupe? We just don’t know... I mean, there’s six of the blighters now. That’s an increase of 200% on membership in just four years and three albums. Scared? I know I am.

What am I supposed to be talking about? Oh yeah, The Winter of Mixed Drinks. Nice.

Peter Katis has done a fine job twiddling the knobs for this one, as he did in producing the band’s last record, and there’s the same abundance of instrumentation ably combined to augment Scott’s warbling. Which is basically my way of saying, it sounds good to my fabulously untrained ear. The sound retains the raw intensity of The Midnight Organ Fight but is certainly far more polished.

Lyrically, Scott Hutchinson is still ploughing the depths of his conscience and banging on about whatever downbeat issue takes his fancy – weirdly, though, most of the songs seem to have quite a jovial bent to them and the overall effect is quite uplifting. So either my life is more depressing than what Scott’s talking about – death, losing faith, loneliness, isolation, more sad stuff like this – or the guy has serious talent for transforming the subject matter of his songs into something emotionally contradictory. Whatever, it sounds wicked.

There’s the standard indie rock heartache indulgences here, but Frightened Rabbit do them very well so it’s not really a complaint so much as a statement of fact; album closer Yes, I Would would fit squarely into this category, and very nice it is too. There’s some bouncy and rambunctious songs about clinging on to hope, and Swim Until You Can’t See Land is perfectly representative of these and is also possibly the most addictive song. The Loneliness, Not Miserable and The Wrestle all might run it close though.

The album’s not perfect by any means, Foot Shooter is pretty lackadaisical... actually, was tempted to work in some sort of wordplay around it – “Foot Shooter? I’ll say!” – but then decided I have to much self-respect for that. What? Oh.

All in all, Katis, Hutchinson and the rest of the lads can give themselves a good pat on the back. Following up Midnight Organ Fight with anything other than a disappointment was always likely to be an impossible task, but to their credit they’ve managed to serve up a record that has the quality to match its predecessor. Drink long and hard from The Winter of Mixed Drinks, it'll satisfy your thirst.

I now inexplicably have a strong urge to get thoroughly pissed.

- Sebastian Clare