“If someone believed me, they would be as in love with you as I am.”
Love requires credulity. Think about it as a basic belief that a lover’s words and actions correspond to some kind of abstract but nonetheless tangible reality in the most ineffable parts of a person. It’s a leap of faith, really. And communicating that reality is often presented as a kind of negation (e.g. “I would die without you.”). So it’s interesting that Romy Croft’s declaration of love is a negation of this credulity: if I was able to explain to anyone else just how much I love you, they, themselves, would fall inexorably in love with you, too. That is to say, her paramour is powerful stuff. To underscore the aching sincerity of the sentiment, Croft’s delicate lisp is backed by the studied minimal R&B that made the band’s debut such an understated treasure. And if possible, “Angels” is even more not-there than anything on xx, a sign of the growing confidence of a band whose boldness pushes them to communicate the incommunicable.