There\’’s much to be said for the significance of a name. A picture might well paint a thousand words, but chances are they’ll always be prefixed by whatever the artist has chosen to call their latest work. The same is true of albums, records, a bunch of tracks in a shuffle-ready sequence (hi, iPod users). And by calling their second studio long-player Helioscope, Leeds-based five-piece Vessels have dropped a hint as to its content. Recorded with Grammy-nominated producer John Congleton (Explosions in the Sky, This Will Destroy You, Modest Mouse) in the heat of the Texan summer, these nine tracks are the sun-scorched yin to the yang of the snow-capped peaks of Vessels’ debut of 2008, White Fields & Open Devices. Where its predecessor was a studied exercise in structure which played many a post-rock trump card, this collection sings with a newfound freeness and looseness. That’s not to say these arrangements are rough-of-edge, or shabby of design. Far from it: these motifs and melodies are cunningly crafted, burrowing deep into the synapses with little resistance; riffs and rhythms tap into some innate appreciation of music both intuitive and intellectual. The build-and-break dynamics executed effortlessly on White Fields… are present, again – but complemented by a greater appreciation of technology, of the possibilities afforded by the modern recording process. Beats and loops aren’t restricted to the margins, instead as vital to the mix as anything deemed “organic”. It rocks, Helioscope, sure. But only those with two left feet and tinnitus couldn’t dance to many of its cuts, too. And that’s the point. While their debut was a feeler, a toe in the water, this is a dive into the deep end. Nothing off limits. All ideas welcomed. Happy accidents present and correct, not that anyone but those responsible for them would notice. If its opening moments punish, fear not – for when the dazzling thunder of ‘Monoform’ and ‘The Trap’ has dissipated), the band looks to the clear skies and points towards the stars for ‘Recur’. Yes, those are vocals. No, Vessels aren’t a purely instrumental proposition. And you’re right, it works really rather well, doesn’t it? As Tom Evans and Lee Malcolm trade lyrics, guitars chime with a celestial resonance. ‘Art/Choke’ is the heaviest track to date by the band, with Martin Teff’s enormous bass tearing over Tim Mitchell’s cross-rhythms. Guest Stuart Warwick’s (formerly known as Jacob’s Stories) haunting lead vocal on first single ‘Meatman, Piano Tuner, Prostitute’ takes the band closer to a composition which could be called mainstream – but with a title like that, it’s obvious that crossover isn’t the clearest vision in their crystal ball. And they’re all the better for it, Vessels. Helioscope is an album that sings with singular tone, which imprints itself like bleached-out blurs on the retinas of those who can’t quit looking up. Rightly so – looking down is cold, dark, miserable. So what’s in a name? Here, heat and passion, as perfectly realised as the light that guides us all come every dawn.