What do you do when your perfectionist lynchpin walks out after you've been working on your much-anticipated new album for two years? In the case of Texan classicists Midlake, you erase the tapes and fashion another set in a quarter of the time. And while the resulting 10 songs share the tweedy virtuosity and sylvan palette of their predecessors, - notably breakthrough record The Trials Of Van Occupanther's more rollicking moments - they possess little of the arcane magic woven by its scion, The Courage Of Others. In the flesh, the discrepancy between Midlake before and after Tim Smith is barely discernible, but under closer scrutiny there is a palpable absence of the restless pilgrim spirit that suffused those earlier, more substantial, long players, whose evocations of 19th century frontiersmen built a wall between Midlake and their peers. Instead, little separates the serviceable pop of The Old And The Young from, say, Grizzly Bear. It's only with the bucolic epiphany of Provider Reprise, the album's finale, that this iteration of Midlake breaks free and scorches the sky.