Scotland has something of a propensity for producing miserable music, though I suppose given the perpetually dour weather conditions, a notoriously poor diet and the unfailing disappointment of our national sporting teams it isn’t really surprising. You only have to look at some of our main exports in terms of alternative music over the last twenty years for evidence – Arab Strap, Ballboy, Mogwai, and more recently the likes of The Twilight Sad and Meursault. By far the most archetypal miserable Scotsmen I’m aware of though is the Paisley duo Small Town Boredom. Really it’s something of a wonder that Fraser McGowan and Colin Morrison have survived long enough to make a follow-up to 2007′s terminally bleak debut Autumn Might Have Hope, I’m incredibly glad they have though.

Notes From The Infirmary draws from the same sonic palette as it’s predecessor, consisting mainly of sparse arrangements of hushed guitar tones, subtle bubbling electronics and field recordings positioned neatly behind McGowan’s blunt murmurings. The best point of reference would probably be to consider it a refined and slightly more polished take on early Arab Strap, and indeed even from their own previous effort they’ve refined an album down from a slightly trying fourteen tracks to just six here; this is misery at it’s most concise. Opener ‘Song For Matthew Leonard’ is the perfect introduction to the way they find comfort in self-loathing with it’s languid plucks and gravelly vocals slowly coalescing to a blustery noise as McGowan drawls lines like “So what’s the point in fame\When everyone you love goes away”. It might only be the second track but the instrumental ‘White Card Water’ already has the feeling of being a bit of a soothing respite, and even an indication that there might be sparks of brightness amidst the mire.

Tracks like ‘Void Lightning’ do have a bit more optimism about them though, with it’s rippling guitar line offering a sense of distance which makes it easier to stomach than the cramped almost claustrophobic production found elsewhere. The real let off does finally come though, on the debut there was a sense of repressed anxiety which never edged out of control but here there’s one passage of intense catharsis on ‘The World’s Most Unwanted’. The song wallows in glimmering minimal piano for a while before finally erupting in to a cacophonous swell of wailing guitar, crashing drums and anguished screams, it sounds like the noise Small Town Boredom have been desperate to make for a long time and have finally reached a point where it can no longer be quelled. It’s utterly majestic, even more so because of it’s isolation.

In some ways Notes From The Infirmary has had a fittingly low-key release, and although some may find it frustrating to have to invest such patience in sorrow it really is deserving of it. If you have the slightest tendency to wallow in your bad moods for a while then do yourself a favour and allow Small Town Boredom to soundtrack those moments, because you’re unlikely to find another artist as in-tune, both lyrically and aesthetically, with what music ought to offer at those times.