A future worth fighting against

Nobody ever dreams of becoming a middle manager. Nobody lies awake at fourteen imagining the exhilarating possibilities of a workplace pension and a semi-detached house on a new-build estate. We dream of adventure, revolution, sex, romance and changing the world. And then somebody hands us a suit and tie and tells us to be realistic.

Montello are growing up. They can see the mind-numbing ordinariness of adult life gathering on the horizon, a future of direct debits, performance reviews and the slow, suffocating surrender of youthful ambition. And rather than meekly accepting their fate, they’ve decided to take arms against that particular sea of troubles.

Reoccurring Daydreams is their second full EP and represents a significant step forward from 2025’s self-titled Montello. That was a record made by a band finding their feet, revelling in newly discovered musical pastures and weaving bright mod melodies into tales of teenage love and romantic misadventure. It bounded along with the breathless enthusiasm of first love, all jangling guitars and youthful exuberance. The sort of record that makes you believe the world might just belong to you after all.

A year later, the world is beginning to look rather less accommodating.

The boyish mod sensibilities remain, but they’ve been given a harder edge, a fuller sound and a distinctly more confrontational attitude. Montello haven’t abandoned their melodic instincts; they’ve simply discovered that sometimes a song needs to bare its teeth.

The Universe Replied… provides the opening salvo. The chiming guitars are still present and correct, but the arrangements have grown wilder, the whole thing pushing towards a more muscular strain of rock and roll. Jacob Knowles’ vocals audibly crack under the strain of a tale of loneliness and frustration, as though the emotional weight of the lyrics is threatening to overwhelm the music itself. Then, just as the song appears to have found its momentum, the brakes are applied. The urgency drains away, the tempo collapses and we’re left with the musical equivalent of someone suddenly realising that the universe has answered their questions, but they don’t particularly like what it’s had to say.

From here, we’re heading into darker territory.

Stop The Press is a more urgent proposition altogether. Pounding drums underpin a swirling bassline and clipped, aggressive guitar riffs. Knowles drops into a commanding baritone before gradually pushing his voice towards a cracked, almost desperate wail. By the closing moments, there are echoes of considerably heavier rock music lurking beneath the indie foundations. This is Montello hitting the rebellion button hard, discovering that youthful disillusionment sounds considerably better when delivered at full volume.

Eleanor (When Will You Learn?) is lighter in touch but no less determined to land its punches. We even get a few ‘sha-la-la-la-las’, that most innocent of pop music devices, although anyone expecting a winsome little love song is in for a disappointment. Behind the deceptively cheerful melodies lies another tale of romantic dysfunction, of emotional investments yielding increasingly diminishing returns. Knowles rasps his way through the wreckage of a relationship that seems to demand everything while offering precious little in return.

And yet there’s still an apologetic streak running through proceedings. Montello are English enough to feel obliged to say sorry, even when they’re the injured party. It’s practically a national condition. The British have always possessed a peculiar talent for turning emotional catastrophe into something you can dance to after six pints of lager. Morrissey built an entire career on the principle, although Montello seem less inclined to wallow in their own misery.

The penultimate track, Cold Calls, represents perhaps the biggest departure from the band’s previous musical territory. A throbbing Hammond organ enters the fray, locking itself around a repetitive bass riff and sharp, insistent drums. There’s something almost industrial about the relentless rhythm, as though somebody has attempted to construct an electronic dance track using nothing more sophisticated than analogue instruments and sheer bloody-mindedness.

Then Knowles arrives, swaggering into the arrangement with a rhythmic vocal delivery that borders on rap, words tumbling over one another in rapid succession. There’s a passing nod to the streetwise verbal gymnastics of early Arctic Monkeys, but the underlying musical approach suggests Montello are increasingly prepared to venture beyond the familiar confines of their mod-influenced guitar sound. It’s a welcome willingness to experiment, and perhaps the clearest indication that this is a band beginning to discover just how far they can push themselves.

And so we arrive at Suit & Tie, where the record finally comes full circle.

The instrumentation becomes lush again, the vocals mellow, and for a moment we’re back in the comforting melodic embrace of the Montello of old. But appearances can be deceptive. Beneath the gentler arrangements lies perhaps the EP’s most unsettling realisation: that youth is temporary, the future is approaching at an alarming rate and society has already decided precisely what it expects you to become.

Get a job. Find a partner. Pay your bills. Buy a house if you can somehow afford one. Be grateful for what you’ve got. Don’t make a fuss.

It’s the great confidence trick of adulthood, the gradual replacement of possibility with responsibility, until one day you wake up and discover that the dreams which once consumed your every waking moment have been quietly exchanged for a respectable salary and twenty-five days of annual leave.

For some, that’s perfectly sufficient. There’s no shame in wanting a quiet life. But for those who once imagined something bigger, the prospect of becoming ordinary can be a frightening one.

And that’s what makes Reoccurring Daydreams such an interesting progression for Montello. They’ve retained the melodic exuberance that made their debut so immediately appealing, but they’ve begun to inject it with a greater sense of purpose. The guitars are louder, the arrangements more adventurous and the lyrical concerns increasingly aware of the uncomfortable realities waiting beyond the rehearsal room door.

This is a band beginning to understand that growing up and surrendering are not necessarily the same thing.

The suits and ties can wait. There are still a few daydreams worth fighting for.

Reoccurring Daydreams is out now on all your favourite streaming channels. Montello play regularly across the UK and undoubtedly have their eyes set on the 2027 festival season.