If there is one word associated with The National more than any other, it is "grower". This is a term I have disagreed with wholeheartedly, primarily on the basis that the fans who use it are insufferably annoying. By the average National fan's definition of the word, it is flagrantly impossible to enjoy Boxer in full upon the first listen. Whether you have mildly enjoyed it, or suffered a joyous cardiac event in its wake, the ensuing discussion is much the same.

"Boxer is [great/terrible]. I [loved/disliked] it."
"Just wait though, it grows on you."
"Okay, but I already said I [loved/hated] it."
"It's a grower, you'll see."
"For the love of everything sacred, I get it already!"
"Just give it time. You'll see."

...As if Boxer were a seed requiring time and nourishment to germinate into actual enjoyment, and as though National fans have doctorates in botany and only they can comprehend the process.

I have bitterly denied the term "grower" since first discovering the album a year ago, but believe I have finally come to understand what all of this pretentiousness is about. It wasn't until my 2010 year end review that I noticed Boxer had become my most played album of all time. This was genuinely surprising. I had not been conscious of playing it so much, and what was more, it was no older to me than when I first heard it.

There is something about Boxer which is permanent. Comfortable. Routine. It is an album managing to convey feelings of boredom and mediocrity without falling into them. It is both lush and subdued in its instrumentation. Matt Berninger's tired voice and sober lyrics express stagnancy and disenchantment. Boxer is the dark rings around your eyes as you stir in the morning hours. It is the tie you loosen at the end of an eight hour day.

Boxer is a thoughtful album, melancholy and dryly funny, applicable to any emotion or season. This balance has allowed me to enjoy it consistently for longer than any other album. During a turbulent year, Boxer has been a shred of stability. It is an album for all of the compliant, ordinary people. It is the perfect fit.

I still do not believe that Boxer is a "grower" in any sense that can be monitored. You can't count the rings in its bark, or the penciled ticks in the doorway marking its growth. Boxer is unconscious and visceral, a parasite quietly reproducing within your system as you follow your schedule. It is only upon examination that you are made aware of how deeply rooted it has become. It is with this in mind that I must give The National's relentlessly obnoxious fans some due credit. It's not that your enjoyment of Boxer must follow a mathematical incline, but that its personal appeal, subtle and restrained, consumes the listener. Just wait. You'll see.

How I came to know of William Doyle was a lucky accident. It was unlike me to take recommendations of artists with no fan base or discography at all, but a friend insisted that William Doyle's album Born in the USB was the greatest alternative album of our generation. I wasn't sold on that particular story, but couldn't concieve a reason not to give it a shot. I was well rewarded for my interest. The album became a favourite, and William Doyle became a friend. This was two years ago.

In that time, I have witnessed William forge ahead with his career, forming a band and a new sound, gaining both speed and footing in the British music scene. Doyle & The Fourfathers have taken 2010/11 by storm, touring consistently, releasing singles, appearing on 6 Music with (former bassist of The Fall) Marc Riley, and headlining acts such as 6Music Fest. They have been on countless "upcoming" and "bands to watch" lists, and receive regular 6 Music airplay. All of this hype for a little band from Southampton.

Doyle & the Fourfathers are a fourpiece britpop band, combining influences from a range of eras and artists, such as Jarvis Cocker, The Smiths, Ray Davies, and the Walker Brothers. Will has been kind enough to allow me to share their first full length album, Man Made, with MusicBanter.

Man Made is a fine example of britpop, addressing loneliness in realistic ways while still maintaining an air of positivity. Man Made sulks, but doesn't despair. It is humbled, but triumphant, and intersperses energetic romps (Dark Times, Luminous People; Lion's Share) with sullen balladry (I Spent a Lot of Time Alone; Shape & Form). William Doyle's voice takes center stage throughout it all, while the remaining instruments (by Ben Clark, Alex Urch, and Michael Goozee) pick up awards for Best Supporting Cast. Man Made is a great, simple pop album by four dedicated and hard-working young men.

It's not out of platonic duty that I share this album with you, but out of genuine enthusiasm for this band's music, and full support of a budding career. I was a fan before I was ever a friend, and I would be pleased if I could share with you an album that I genuinely approve of by a band that earnestly deserves to be spread.