This is great, breezy reggae from local act Kingtide, and while it doesn’t break any ground musically or blow you off your chair lyrically, it warms the cockles of your heart. Don’t be fooled by the quasi-Huxley apocalyptic title of this tight and funky outfit’s second album, this is a summery snags-n-spliffs soundtrack of the highest order. Equally evoking sweet Kingston ska and the neo dub of their trans-Tasman brethren Fat Freddy’s Drop and Sola Rasa, Kingtide give their reggae groove many hues and tints. ‘Scared New World’ succeeds because it does not wallow in West Indian reggae posture, it has its own antipodean slant and the ten plus musicians give the album true depth in its scope and execution.

Only opener and lead single ‘Christmas Song’ sounds a little naff, with its Babylon chants and raga vocal line, but the sheer musicality and sweet harmonising, which drive the song, can’t help but charm you. ‘Fly’ is truly gorgeous, lush trumpets wheeze over sexy Hammond stabs and a sleepy dub wise rhythm. Likewise ‘Summer Dress’, which is almost reminiscent of early Finley Quaye. There is definitely an overwhelming positive energy about the interaction between the players in Kingtide and that comes through with the warmth and cohesion in their sound.

‘New Morning’ has an irresistibly sweet stomp and the punchy, anthemic and curiously titled ‘French Country Dance Hall House’ evokes memories of grooving on the grass at the Bondi Pavilion many moons ago. Kingtide close the album out with two deep, sparse numbers; ‘Convict Song’ and ‘Convict Scape Dub’, which strip Kingtide’s dense, rich sound back to a more spare dub aesthetic, in particular the latter workout which lays an almost ghostly gypsy harmonica over fluttering acoustic strumming and skeletal percussion. It shows Kingtide are willing to leap out of the reggae/dub confines and experiment within an almost free jazz philosophy.

‘Scared New World’ is a solid second album from this Sydney band, which will no doubt blare proudly from beach combing speakers of the more discerning summertime groove heads. To quote Lionel Richie, “easy like Sunday morning”.