It's difficult to put a finger on exactly what makes Frightened Rabbit so special. Whether it's Scott Hutchison's poignant lyrics, the band's flair for sonic textures or just their ability to write toe-tappingly catchy tunes, the Scottish indie rockers have crafted an album with the ability to tie knots in your stomach.

When Frightened Rabbit frontman Scott Hutchison claimed that their third album was even better than 2008's touching and beautiful 'Midnight Organ Fight,' warning sparks went flying. Surely not? Surely there was no way 'The Winter of Mixed Drinks' could be better than an album that revealed its insights slowly over many repeated listens, that touched on universal truths as well as wide-ranging and contradictory emotions. And it's true, 'The Winter of Mixed Drinks' isn't better, but it's close.

Scott Hutchison is a wonderful lyricist, both perceptive and poetic, occasionally even disturbing, and while 'The Winter of Mixed Drinks' arguably lacks the same lyrical dexterity as its predecessor, in many ways it picks up where 'Midnight Organ Fight' left off. Anatomical vocabulary is once again rife, while here and there are subtle references to previous work. Recorded in the isolated coastal town of Crail, Fife, there's also a new prevalence of maritime language, which fits perfectly with the sense of distance and desolation that feeds tracks like opener 'Things' and standout track 'Not Miserable', which begins with distorted and echoing piano before swelling into a swirling mass of strings and voices.

This band has a wonderful way with musical textures, particularly when it comes to vocals. Having recently upgraded to a five piece, there are now more voices than ever to fill the space with repeated phrases and rhythmic backdrops. Combined with occasional strings and Grant Hutchison's panache on the drums, Frightened Rabbit create dense soundscapes that build and intensify in the most intoxicating manner. Maintaining their fondness for brief connective passages, atmospheric interlude 'Man/Bag of Sand' is perhaps a smidge self-indulgent, but it is far outweighed by upbeat indie-rock numbers like 'Living in Colour', with its pounding bass drum and euphoric violins.

To go through the virtues of each of these eleven tracks would take about a year and a day, but honestly, this just gets better with every listen.