Doing This For Love is an album blessed with one of those artfully considered covers that visually informs the precise experience from which these songs have risen. What at first glance looks like an indistinct melange of colours reveals, after a lingering glare, to be the sight of over-congested traffic, headlights on before sunrise, rain hitting the windscreen as the working masses advance on another long, exhausting day. As Kris Drever himself has stated ahead of the record’s release. “These ten songs are mediations on the unglamourous 4am alarm clocks, ungrateful shifts, the quiet sacrifices made for love.” That alone should illustrate the extent to which Kris has evolved artistically over the years, no more limited to the inherited, traditional Scottish folk around which he learned his craft; nowadays, he is an artist with the tools available to create a deeply personal work such as this. In fact, everything feels like it has fallen into place; he can make intimate sounds such as those heard here and collaborate with a wide cast of players without sacrificing any familiarity. Not only that, but he is a natural at unlocking sonic detail without ever losing the organic, impassioned feel of a responsive, intuitive live performer.
Kris dives straight in with the title track, and in its context within the album, it plays like a kind of overture. And like an overture, Doing This For Love resoundingly sets a scene and establishes an emotional template for what is to follow. It is like a work song; we find Kris singing about digging holes in the rain as the Tuesday morning sun rises. We get to feel the quiet dignity of endurance, maybe even an underbelly of mild job satisfaction, as our narrator takes comfort in the honourable motivation to knuckle down and carry on. “I’m doing this for love”, he sings in the chorus, “chasing the money round, keeping the Devil down.” Sat alongside the framework of a rousing folk ballad are the scrapes and echoes of industrial noise. He may not be finding much peace in the relentless grind and discipline of work, but Kris is heroically tackling the interminable tasks one day at a time, ever mindful of the simple, fragile domestic haven he desperately wants to maintain. So, there is both a tangible northern grit ever-present in this song, just as an indelible human spirit rising up emphatically from the labouring residue.
A spritely yet melancholic guitar figure introduces Change, and again, an impossible-to-ignore human spirit is evident as the song reflects on the unstoppable inevitability of change. A little lightness of touch elevates Kris way above a mere jobbing writer, as in this tune with the delightful line that says, “even Tory politicians will one day come unspun.” And, given the relentlessness of change, Kris would probably want to switch that line to Reform now, but I digress. Bring Back Hanging Around is also hung on some guitar licking that is a tuneful, inspired joy, which alongside the swirling, free and breezy violin perfectly conjures reminiscences about days long gone when hanging out with friends was a viable way to spend your time. Kris clearly does not want to lose touch with a sense of wonder, as Magic Friend tells of an improbable presence putting music in the breeze and writing the songs on the power lines in what amounts to an appreciation of our environments, be they natural or civic, the ability to comfort and astound.
Pilot Whales features the warmer sound of electricity powering those folky guitar strings, and it is enhanced with bouncy drumming and the tender presence of Rachel Sermanni’s vocal accompaniment. In an album where the day-to-day heft endured by all working folk is felt, a number like this finds strength and a well-placed setting in the running order thanks to its ever-shifting zest. Save A Space is a sincere plea for a place in the nuts and bolts of our existence on Earth, bleeding with anxiety at the thought of not breathing in every possible curiosity and fascination that comes with this thing called existence. Does Your Sleep Feel Like Rest is a great title, and Drever has found a channel ideal for delivering what it needs musically too. It is a sound alive to the beauty and expressive potential surrounding us that remains shackled by a fatigue that cannot be shaken off merely by sleeping. Every Time is the closest we have come to a ballad so far, and it is blessed with the most glorious of chord changes when hitting what is, for me, the key line. “It’s so hard to make time for yourself, so take it wherever you can.” Still The Boy understands how life and ageing do not erase one’s core sense of self, first realised in our younger days, and that restless spirit, tainted by our being, also clash in closer Catterline, especially as Kris sings “God what a life, I hate it when our bodies go wrong.” Then some energy and light drift back in via surging electric guitar as this ten-song meditation draws to a close; Doing This For Love stands as a powerful tribute to the working lives it portrays. These are songs forged from struggle but lifted by love; each with the potential to secure a lasting place in the folk canon.
Doing This For Love (April 10th, 2026) The North Sound
Order: Bandcamp | From Kris’s website
Live Dates: https://www.krisdrever.com/#gigs
The album features:
Kris Drever – vocals and guitars
Euan Burton – bass and organ
Louis Abbott – drums, percussion and vocals
Rachel Lightbody – vocals
Michelle Willis – vocals, pianos and organ
John Blease – drums
Rachel Sermanni – vocals and swanee whistle
Trent Freeman – fiddles
Matthew Herd – mellotron and saxophone
Sam Mabbett – accordion
Ian Carr – guitar
Cahalen Morrison – banjo