SANTA CLAWS aren’t in a hurry. And that’s exactly why “Sands of time” works.
The Brittany-based five-piece has been kicking around since 2017. They dropped their debut album produced by Greg Gordon—the guy who worked with Oasis and Supergrass—and then life got in the way. Lineup changes. A pandemic. Years of writing and waiting and rebuilding. Now they’re back with a second album, and it sounds like a band that finally figured out who they are.
The current lineup is Greg Aubert on lead vocals, guitars, and keyboards. Antoine Montgaudon handles guitars, keyboards, backing vocals, and arrangements. Stéphane Kérihuel is the new guy on guitar, and his arrival pushed them into a three-guitar setup. Teddy Moisan holds down the bass and adds backing vocals. Julien Pinel sits behind the kit. That’s five people making a racket, and the extra guitar gives them room to layer without just getting louder.
The album was self-produced at their own studio in La Chapelle-Neuve. Antoine Montgaudon mixed it. Christophe Chavanon mastered it on analog tape at Studio Kerwax. That analogue approach matters. You can hear the warmth. You can hear the grain. It doesn’t sound like a computer polished every edge off. It sounds like real people playing real instruments in a real room.
“Gimme a minute” opens things up with a quick, direct shot. Under three minutes. It’s efficient and sharp, with a Britpop swagger that doesn’t waste time. Then “Rainy day” stretches out a bit more. It’s airier, dreamier, letting the guitars breathe. It’s the kind of track that builds a mood instead of just hitting you over the head.
“Two days ten hours” runs over five minutes. That’s a bold move for the third track, but it earns it. The song takes its time. It lets ideas develop. It doesn’t rush to the chorus. “Too late” snaps back into tighter territory. Short, punchy, and loaded with that British indie energy. “Surrender” is the longest track here, clocking in near six minutes. It’s about letting go, and the music reflects that. It’s not a fight. It’s an acceptance. The guitars swirl. The rhythm section locks in. It’s the emotional centre of the record.
“Tattoo me” brings things back to something more immediate. It’s about leaving a mark, about permanence. The melody is strong, the guitars are crunchy, and it balances pop hooks with rock grit. “Rescue me” digs into vulnerability. It’s almost five minutes, and it uses every second to build tension and release. Greg Aubert’s voice stays right in the middle while the guitars work around him. And the closer, “Grain of sand“, ties the whole thing together. The title says it all—small moments, tiny details, the little stuff that adds up over time. It’s a fitting end to an album obsessed with the passage of time.
Influences? You’ll hear The Beatles in the melodies. Radiohead in the darker corners. Oasis in the attitude. Supergrass and The Breeders in the noisy pop energy. But SANTA CLAWS aren’t copying anyone. They’re taking those building blocks and making something that belongs to them. The songs are about time, about missed chances, about what survives after everything else falls away.
The band celebrated the release with a showcase at Studio Kerwax, recorded straight to analogue tape. That’s the whole point. They want the live energy, the human feel, the imperfections that make rock music matter. A live film directed by Melody Aubert is coming in 2027.
“Sands of time” isn’t about proving they survived. It’s about what they built while they were surviving. Ten years in the making. Eight tracks. No shortcuts. SANTA CLAWS took their time, and it paid off.