Almost Here Finally Gets the Vinyl Release It Always Deserved

Unbelievable Truth Revisit Their Beloved 1998 Debut as the Album Returns Nearly Three Decades Later

Some records arrive quietly and never really leave.

Originally released in 1998, Almost Here, the debut album from Unbelievable Truth, never demanded attention in the way many records of its era did. It wasn’t built for spectacle. It lived in subtleties—melodic restraint, emotional precision, and songs that trusted atmosphere more than excess. While Britpop was still chasing volume and larger-than-life moments, Unbelievable Truth created something far more intimate.

Now, nearly three decades later, that quiet brilliance is finally being given the physical permanence it deserves.

On May 8th, Proper Records, in association with Universal Music Group, will reissue Almost Here on vinyl for the very first time since its original release through Virgin Records. For longtime listeners, it feels overdue. For newer audiences, it offers the chance to rediscover an album that has only grown more resonant with time.

Mint copies of the original pressing have become collector’s pieces, often selling for three-figure sums on Discogs—a reflection of how deeply the album has stayed with those who found it. The reissue arrives in two formats: a faithful 180g black vinyl LP replicating the original UK pressing, and a deluxe double LP featuring B-sides and rare tracks, including “From This Height,” offering a fuller portrait of the band’s early world.

But Almost Here has never been about rarity. It has always been about feeling.

The Album That Quietly Outlasted Its Era

Formed by vocalist and guitarist Andy Yorke, bassist Jason Moulster, and drummer/producer Nigel Powell, Unbelievable Truth stood apart from the late-’90s rush of louder guitar bands by choosing something softer, but no less powerful.

Songs like “Solved,” “Higher Than Reason,” and “Angel” moved with a kind of emotional patience. They built slowly, often beginning in near-whispers before opening into soaring, cathartic moments that never felt forced. There was vulnerability in the writing, but never performance. It felt honest rather than dramatic.

That honesty is what has allowed the record to last.

Looking back now, Nigel describes the experience of making the album with a kind of certainty that only time can bring.

“Almost Here remains timeless and an entirely positive memory,” he tells Everyday Jams. “We were on the same page, with a supportive record company, and in a really great studio environment. And I was creating music I really loved with two people who are still my closest friends in the world.”

That sense of emotional clarity still sits at the center of the record. It sounds like a band making exactly the album they were meant to make.

For Andy, revisiting the album carries a slightly different weight.

“I do feel this weird distance from my younger self,” he says. “Like that’s a different person and not me.”

Listening back now, he hears the 25-year-old version of himself—the voice at the center of the record before he fully trusted his own writing. At the time, he remembers carrying a sense of imposter syndrome, despite knowing there was something special in what they were building.

That tension—the uncertainty, the self-doubt, the quiet confidence underneath it—is part of what gives Almost Here its emotional gravity. It captures youth without trying to explain it.

Built on Instinct, Not Perfection

One of the defining qualities of Almost Here is how carefully it holds itself. There’s restraint in every arrangement, but it never feels calculated. Nothing is overworked. Nothing reaches too hard.

Interestingly, neither Andy nor Nigel describe that balance as intentional.

“It’s always interesting getting to answer questions like this,” Nigel says, “because we create in such an instinctual way that we never think about things in terms of what to express, or leave unresolved.”

The songs weren’t shaped around a concept—they were shaped around trust. Listening to each other. Letting emotion settle naturally. Allowing space where it was needed.

“There is a kind of poise to it, isn’t there,” Andy says. “I don’t know where it came from.”

Maybe that’s exactly why it works.

The album doesn’t feel designed to impress anyone. It feels like people following instinct and arriving somewhere honest. That restraint creates its own kind of tension. It lets the quieter moments hit harder.

The Room Became Part of the Record

The setting mattered too.

Rather than recording in a sterile studio environment, the band made Almost Here at Great Linford Manor in Buckinghamshire, working inside the ballroom of the manor house itself. It wasn’t polished or clinical—it still felt lived in.

Nigel remembers how immediately that changed the emotional atmosphere of the sessions.

“It still had all the plaster moulding and ancient wood panelling,” he says. “Unlike a lot of studio rooms we’d been in, that place didn’t seem to insist on technical brilliance, but did encourage emotional honesty.”

That phrase—emotional honesty—might be the clearest way to describe Almost Here.

The record never tries to overwhelm the listener. It never reaches for unnecessary grandeur. Instead, it invites closeness. It asks for attention, not because it is loud, but because it is precise.

It rewards patience.

And nearly 30 years later, it still does.

Finally Pressed the Way It Was Meant to Be

For years, fans asked for a vinyl reissue.

As original copies became harder to find and increasingly expensive, Almost Here developed the kind of cult reputation that only happens when a record quietly continues to matter long after its original release cycle has ended.

Nigel says making the reissue happen took far longer than anyone expected, particularly after Universal absorbed Virgin Records and the process became more complicated.

Now that it’s here, what matters most to him isn’t just the pressing itself—it’s what the expanded release adds to the full picture.

“I think the most important thing is the addition of the extra tracks on the second disc,” he says. “For those who didn’t have the singles, it expands the understanding of what we were trying to do at the time.”

That idea feels important.

Because Almost Here was never just a collection of songs—it was a mood, a world, a kind of emotional architecture. The additional tracks don’t just offer rarity; they complete the shape of the record.

For longtime listeners, it feels like closure.

For new ones, it feels like the right way to begin.

Not a Return—A Continuation

While the reissue looks back, Unbelievable Truth are not operating from nostalgia.

Following the release of their 2025 album Rich Inner Life, which was warmly received by critics, the band is already working on new material. And according to Andy, it doesn’t feel like an attempt to recreate the past.

“The new material sounds like a clear development on from it,” he says. “It’s not referring back to it or trying to recapture something about it. It feels like we are just growing in confidence.”

That feels like the best possible ending for a record like Almost Here.

Because it doesn’t feel like a relic. It doesn’t feel frozen in time.

It feels like the beginning of something that simply kept going.

Some albums are rediscovered.

Others were simply waiting for people to catch up.

Almost Here is out May 8th via Proper Records.