There’s certain clichés in this industry – the nebulous debut album, the sophomore slump. Sitting down with The Maccabees’ Felix White, though, Hot Press feels it’s only right that we point out that a ‘difficult fourth album’ isn’t really a ‘thing’.

“Well, it was difficult,” sighs White, breaking into a mischievous grin. “But going straight from the studio to doing interviews about it, we probably went overboard. We were exaggerating, using words like ‘traumatic’. Now that we’ve got a slightly different perspective on things, maybe it wasn’t quite as bad as we’ve made it sound!”
It’s all laughs and smiles today, as the guitarist kicks back at home in South London, but the undeniable truth is that a follow-up to 2012’s Given To The Wild was expected – by both ourselves and the quintet themselves – long before now. Even if traumatic isn’t the word, the struggle was real.
“For the first 18 months, it felt like we didn’t have anything. Honestly, you do begin to worry. Everything you do is laced with the possibility that it could be a complete disaster, and you’re always aware of that. Also, by the time we realised we didn’t have any songs, we’d been working on it for a year and were kind of exhausted.”
Eventually, though, the songs came and, thankfully, they’ve proven to be worth the wait. Marks To Prove It is a spectacularly suitable title – it might refer to the struggle to make the record, but it’s equally applicable to the decade-long journey the band has enjoyed to this point.
“Something about this record – which it must be said is accidental – is that it has elements of all the albums that went before. As soon as it’s on, you know it’s us. I’m really pleased we’ve got to that point. It feels like we own a particular sound, and transcended those direct comparisons to others.” While its predecessor was a seriously expansive effort – “very cinematic and pretty sprawling,” Felix agrees – the new LP is tighter and more focused, due in no small part to the inspiration provided by the five-piece’s surroundings in the London neighbourhood of Elephant And Castle.
I think it brought the whole thing together,” he nods. “Once you spend ten hours a day in a place, you notice things that you mightn’t when passing through, the things that are special about it. We even had lyrical ideas that came from overhearing people. Our last album never had a sense of place, and we wanted that this time round – Elephant played a huge part in achieving it.”
While the album’s opening salvo is the storming title track, things soon slow down to take listeners on a tour of the locality. If a certain amount of people watching has informed the record – the striking emotion of ‘WWI Portraits’ or the delicate intimacy of ‘Slow Sun’ – then so too has an introspective mood. ‘River Song’, another of the record’s standouts, is keenly focused on ageing and the passage of time.
“The whole album is, in some ways,” Felix laughs. “We’re all right around 30-years-old, and we mention it just about every other sentence. It’s either, ‘Of course I can do this, I’m 30’, or ‘I can’t believe I can’t do this at 30’. We’re completely wrapped up in it!” Perhaps this explains why they’re in no rush to focus too far ahead. While there’s a headline tour to consider once the summer festival run is completed – and, of course, a fifth effort to come at some stage down the line – Felix isn’t in a mood to look too much into the future.
“I don’t think it would be healthy to be talking about our next album yet. We really want to enjoy this one. It didn’t come very naturally this time, and there were stages of not knowing when or how it was going to work. Listening to it now, I feel it was worth it all.”