Fiel Garvey, who debuted with the singles Glass Faced Warrior (1996), For What I Love (1997), Colour You (1998) and Difference of Me (2001), may well represent the mutation of dream-pop in Britain at the turn of the century. Not the usual ethereal/sensual vocals afloat in a sea of densely atmospheric arrangements, but just about the opposite: the songs of Vuka Vuka (Noisebox, 2001) rely on minimal, restrained accompaniment (of mostly guitar tones) and are delivered by Anne Reekie's deceptively naive vocals, an insecure compromise between Kate Bush and Bjork. Led by Glass Faced Warrior (their 1996 debut single) and For What I Love (their 1997 single), two songs that display the affinities with American slo-core, the album delves into the zen-like contemplation of Right Out and Forced, Risk, Better Gaze than Fear and Dress Down. Contrary to logic, it is a rather claustrophobic experience.

The voice is a little more adult on Leave Me Out Of This (Words Music, 2003), but the music by the quintet (three girls and two boys) is still the same delicate tapestry of barely whispered thoughts. The trancey melody of B-rock that opens the album is perhaps meant to transport the listener in the black-and-white slow-motion world of the band. But I Didn't Say reveals the full range of their music, that, far from being static or monotonous, can bridge the plaintive and the operatic without the slightest rapture of mood.
The pulsing spiderweb and ghostly reverbs of Doortime resort to techniques well honed by the Cocteau Twins and My Bloody Valentine, but in a much quieter state. By the same token, Reeling As You Come Around Again, one of the few tracks that passes the five-minute threshold, dismantles the whole edifice of dream-pop, leaving only the "dream" part of the equation.
It sounds and feels like the vocalist is simply repeating the same tune with minimal variations. To some extent, that is true. The notable exception is perhaps Caught On, that echoes catchy refrains of the 1960s, albeit in this new prudish context; and a close second is the lulling carillon of There You Go.
The album comes alive with Got A Reason, strongly reminiscent of the first Velvet Underground album (tribal rhythm and dreamy vocals). The only track with a stronger rhythm, Talking a Hole in My Head, sounds like an oddity within an album that is so keen on not disturbing the sleep of the listener, which the closing Flake seals with the most delicate of these filigrees.

Unfortunately, there is little to salvage out of Caught Laughing (Words on Music, 2006): the neoclassical piano of Special Rate (perhaps an attempt to duplicate Coldplay's success), the dreamy, catchy and danceable The Palace Lights, the ghostly and cosmic impressionism of Air Song. The rest sounds like amateurish pop balladry with non-trivial (but not necessarily intriguing) arrangements.