my campaign to make The 1975’s second record album of the year even though its only february

In the same way as this is The 1975’s more grown up, second album, I feel like this is my second stage in adolescence and growing up and, as I've gotten older and matured, so has my perception of the messages in the band's music. Of course their sound has changed a bit - still undeniably unique, if not universally adored - but there's still undercurrents of the band that I know and love.

In true The 1975 form, they've played about with the punctuation and capitalisation of the album title – I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it. Not everything has to change. There's a perfect balance of continuity and change on this record and it takes my breath away how they've been able to craft such a truly dazzling record. I know it may be a bit premature because it's not even March yet - but this is going to be record of the year without doubt.

As I sat in my tiny uni room yesterday, the new record made me feel how I've never felt before - and that's the true beauty of music. Matty Healy penned and rationalised emotions I didn't know existed and lived within me and, to be faced with them for the first time, was honestly scary, but - and I'm not over exaggerating here - it was dually life changing. This is where the feeling of maturity is felt the most on this record.

They never take themselves too seriously. Their new music video for The Sound, which was also released yesterday, featured appearances from what I would assume to be genuine comments on their music and the band’s general persona - "I only heard Chocolate once, but I hated it". Love Me also discusses their fame and popularity in its lyrics. They know they're controversial and not enjoyed by a fair few people, but it's something that comes with job and we can clearly see they're more than aware of this. In The Ballad Of Me and My Brain, Healy comically touches upon the generation divide and how they're admired by Gen-X and Gen-Y and the way adults aren’t so keen on them - "Sign an autograph for my daughter, Laura?/She adores you/I think you're shit"

Although everyone's already heard Love Me, UGH!, The Sound, Somebody Else, and A Change Of Heart; they haven't lost their shine. Sure people skipped them the first time they got their hands on the new record, but that doesn't mean that their appeal has diminished.

Healy is incredibly articulate, especially on the latter half of this record. Whether he's discussing fame, drug abuse, or the small aspects of family life; he has the ability to turn something so personal it into something digestible for the mass market and, for it to touch as many people as it inevitably does, really is a feat.

There are so many lyrical highlights on this record, it would be impossible and, quite frankly insulting, to exclude some of my favourites from this article.

They mercilessly explore the relationship between parent and child on this record. If I Believe You features the line "I mean if it was you who made my body you probably shouldn't have made me atheist" which highlights the almost painful dimension to messy relationships with parents, and it's so naked and honest - it hurts. It also draws astonishingly clever parallels drawn between faith and religion and this type of relationship - "And I'm asking you Jesus, show yourself". And if that wasn’t enough, there’s an incredible, smooth, delicate saxophone solo from John Waugh in the brief instrumental break.

Following this theme, Matty hints towards childhood and innocence particularly through his choice of vocabulary in ILIWYSFYASBYSUOI (I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it) - "Before you go, turn the big light off (Please don't go)". Not only are these the only words in the song which immediately demands more focus upon each individual word, they also connote childhood and highlights its vulnerability through phrases such as “the big light”. We can also see it in The Ballad Of Me And My Brain - "oh mum check the car it can't have gone far" - something that I’ve never seen explored in music before.

We can see Healy is torn between his atheistic beliefs and he's belief in something larger than himself. Nana emotionally tells the listener about the extremely personal passing of a family member and how he coped with it - "I know that God doesn't exist/And all the palaver surrounding it/But I like to think you hear me sometimes". He also brings in his parents and, by naming his mother directly, makes this record in particular feel terrifically candid - "So I reached for a borrowed fleece from my dad or from Denise/Always trying to keep warm when you're the sun".

But this isn’t the only theme I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it explores. Although it takes 24 seconds for the song to start, there’s a truly moving undertone to She Lays Down which makes the closing song my favourite out of all seventeen tracks. Nothing is more honest than a stripped back acoustic record in which you can hear Matty clearing his throat and sitting down with his guitar, and finishing with “that was it” to close the album. It’s a record about a girl on a downward spiral, doing cocaine in her dressing gown, and being utterly pessimistic - "She just wants to feel something/And I don't think that's asking for too much". There's something about how gentle the song is which makes you feel as if she’s on the edge of a breakdown, Healy’s not wanting to raise his voice or introduce a drum beat in case he scares her off. He obviously cares about her but feels a degree of helplessness, and its this which pulls at the heartstrings - "In the end she chose cocaine/But it couldn't fix her brain/She’s appalled/She doesn’t love me at all".

Paris has some beautiful undertones. Even if the song is more about picking up than it is about the actual city of Paris, the smooth tones and strong, reliable bass backbone make me miserable about leaving Paris and I've not even been yet - "Oh how I’d love to go to Paris again".

There's a nod to their past record and the demi-cult that evolved around them. And you can see that he’s not afraid to make fun of himself -"you look shit and you smell a bit"/"you were fit now you're losing it" in A Change Of Heart. There’s a clearer divide between this album and the last in this track in particular; maybe because he directly speaks about the lyrics from their first album – “You used to have a face straight out of a magazine/Now you just look like anyone” and “I feel as though I was deceived/I never found love in the city/I just sat in self-pity and cried in the car”. Even the title of the song itself tells us they’ve matured - especially as it doesn’t ever indicate that they resent the band the media portrayed them to be (we’re all thinking of the same Doc Martens, wacky haircut, all-black paintbrush that they were tarred with). They know fine well it provided a platform for them which made them able to create a second album, and also because that was a time in their life where they related to that music and, even though its changed, it was a part of their life nonetheless. The beat in A Change Of Heart sounds like Robbers' forgotten sibling, and shows the parallels between this record and the first, and stresses the ways in which they've grown and matured in the 2 years separating their albums.

Additionally, Lostmyhead feels a bit like Hnscc, but that might just be me and my particular admiration for the short track from the first album.

The 1975 discuss taboo topics (not wanting your ex to move on, complex family relationships, death, drug abuse, suicidal feelings, and gay relationships) so unapologetically on this record – its honestly refreshing. It’s not so serious, and it’s not too comical. It’s honest, but not so personal it becomes unpalatable to everyone except Matty, George, Adam, and Ross – and I think its this inclusion into their world, which we see in neon pink compared to the monochrome tones of the last album, that makes this record honestly stunning from start to finish.