Blind is the record The Sundays made when they stopped being the band everyone compared to The Smiths and started sounding unmistakably like themselves, now spread across a 2LP pressing. Reading, Writing and Arithmetic had made them indie darlings in 1990, all jangle and Harriet Wheeler's impossibly clear voice floating over David Gavurin's chiming guitar. Three years later, this 1992 follow-up on Geffen arrived moodier and more inward, the melodies just as gorgeous but the arrangements less eager to charm. Wheeler and Gavurin, a couple who have always written together, took their time and made something less immediate on purpose. It confused some people at the time and has aged far better than the fashionable records around it. Love is the album's beating heart, a slow build that resolves into one of the loveliest choruses of the decade, while Goodbye takes the opposite route, brisk and bright, hiding real melancholy under the tempo. Blood on My Hands lets Gavurin's guitar get genuinely dark, and their cover of Wild Horses is a small masterclass in restraint, Wheeler singing the Stones without a shred of swagger and finding something sadder underneath. Three albums in twelve years, then silence. This is the one that rewards patience most.