She may have recently come to wider attention thanks to her theme song (“The Wise Man’s Song”) and score for the hit Mackenzie Crook series Small Prophets, but for those of us in the know, Amelia Baker, better known as Cinder Well, has been a leading light in the alt-folk scene for over a decade. Following a starkly expressive debut EP in 2015, she released three albums of spellbinding songcraft and ever-increasing sonic depth.
She has a reputation as a purveyor of dark folk – hints of discord, lyrics rich with symbolic meaning – but this is only half the story, because Baker is also a talented melodicist whose songs stretch out and unfold with a natural if sometimes mysterious grace, drawing in influences from unexpected quarters. And as it turns out, she is also a talented producer. Here, for the first time, she is involved in the nuts-and-bolts processes behind making an album, the invisible scaffold on which her songs are built. This new approach results in greater creative control, which, in turn, means that A Blooming Body is probably the closest we’ve yet been to witnessing Baker’s unique vision in full. It certainly sees her move away – slowly and in multiple directions at once – from the neofolk tag critics have saddled her with since those early days.
She is especially keen to emphasise the importance of gaps and silences in her music. This is clear on the slow build of Ashes. The Morse code minimalism of the guitar is cut through by clipped vocal phrases which grow inexorably into a detailed tableau, a poetic jigsaw solving itself in real time. Towards the end, a martial drumbeat and David Relicke’s insistent flugelhorn drag the song to its conclusion. Of Nettles and Roses is a stripped-back strum, allowing Baker’s voice – always keen and clear, always slightly ragged with a hint of vulnerability – to take centre stage. Signals takes the process of reduction even further, with list-like lyrics that resemble an enigmatic stream-of-consciousness word game.
But there is also room for a greater-than-usual range of instruments: opener While the Womb Screams Silently is built on an ostensibly simple piano, adorned by strings that tread the line between serene and spooky. Here she also introduces one of her favoured themes, the role of women in patriarchy (often in contrast to their role in something close to a state of nature). With subtle melodies, she makes a claim for the visceral and the intuitive. At times her songs are like the dark cousins of Joni Mitchell circa For the Roses or Blue.
Beyond the Pale has an old-timey, Karen Dalton-like feel, that is until we realise that Baker is singing about decidedly contemporary issues, while The Color of Earth approaches post-rock (or its offshoot, slowcore) in terms of dynamics and structure and its quietly expressive guitar work. But where Low, for example, matched the sparseness of their arrangements with Mimi Sparhawk’s muted vocals, Baker is more inclined to take the bull by the horns, and her attempts at covering a wider range of ground are largely successful.
August sees her at her most emotionally exposed. The simple chorus, ‘what a hole, what a horror,’ and C.P.N. Hollywell’s quietly pained backing vocals make for a strangely moving – and gripping – experience. And closing track, Shadows of Leaves on Red Brick, combines beautifully observational lyrics with a near-mystical meditation on leaving and parting, all backed up by those characteristic grungy guitar notes, flirting simultaneously with noise and melody.
Cinder Well’s talents have never been in doubt, but on A Blooming Body they are more evident and more varied than ever. This is a raw and richly detailed album full of hidden musical depths and often-breathtaking passages of songwriting.
A Blooming Body (July 17th, 2026) Hen House Studios