Glenn Kimpton

Shelter, the new album from Chaz Prymek (aka Lake Mary) and Matthew Sage, is a rather beautiful, unhurried recording built from live improvisations in a pole barn studio, delicately adorned with sparse overdubs. The music is intricate and spacious, very elegantly performed and balanced — the sound of musicians who love expression through sound and the environment they call home.

Sam Grassie’s debut album, “Where Two Hawks Fly”, arrives after years of adversity — life-threatening injury, debilitating illness and personal tragedy — and sounds all the more remarkable for it. His guitar playing is deft and unshowy, worthy of hero Bert Jansch, while collaborators help shape something deeply assured, generous and communal.

Plankton Wat’s “The Vanishing World” is a belter – a love letter to the era of the big studio album. James Shaver’s killer bass lines power mercurial instrumentals, while drummer Dustin Dybvig and trumpeter Victor Nash inject pure joy. At times high-octane, at others low-key and sparse, the creativity on show is hugely satisfying.

Bill Orcutt follows up the celebrated “Music for Four Guitars” with “Music in Continuous Motion,” his second studio album for four guitars. If anything, Music in Continuous Motion is a more enjoyable album, with soulful compositions working alongside the gnarlier playing. A fully realised and finely honed set by a master of experimental guitar, this is unmissable. Bring on the live shows.

“Seven Lefts” is a mammoth, tangible album of improvised drone, muscular riffs and deep-thinking ambition — unlike anything Nathan Bowles has done before. While on paper, it’s a real challenge with over an hour of improvised, scuzzy sound and insistent, burly refrains, it’s a surprisingly listenable, addictive set that demonstrates the range and ambition of this meticulous musician. Boom.

In their debut album, Hookahs of the Cave, Danny Riley and Noah Radley deliver an addictively listenable collection of electric guitar and drum excursions. From the acid-tinged, eastern raga-esque grooves of ‘Smoking the Bone’ to the pensive, sparse atmosphere of ‘Enclave of Parisian Cash’, the duo showcases immense depth. Whether through muscular drumming or patient restraint, this collaboration is consistently exciting and atmospheric.

Seamus Cater and Norwegian guitarist Fredrik Rasten have an exceptional ear for space — knowing what to leave out as much as what to put in. Across six unhurried songs, Strange the Grass Grows breathes and blooms with quiet confidence, its traditional ballads and originals handled with such grace and elegance that it stays with you long after the final note.

Shane Parish takes on the music of English electronic duo Autechre, re-imagining ten of the band’s 1990s songs solo on his Taylor acoustic — ultra-minimalist and organic. The intricacy of the numerous patterns becomes clearer with each listen, time signatures and tempos working together to create a tapestry of beautifully accomplished acoustic playing. Super clean, incredibly precise, and simply a pleasure to listen to — Autechre Guitar is a stunner.

Pedal steel player Barry Walker Jr. teams with drummer Rob Smith and bassist Jason Willmon for Paleo Sol, a luminous Thrill Jockey release built on space and texture. Walker’s steel guides rather than dominates, creating conversational interplay across tracks like the buoyant Leaving Lower Big Basin and the hypnotic twelve-minute Sentient Lithosphere. Confident, inviting, and impeccably produced, this is collaborative instrumental music at its finest.

Notes to Self is Welsh harpist Catrin Finch’s most intimate work yet—a poignant “letter” to her 13-year-old self. Through eleven compositions, Finch explores themes of home, anxiety, and innocence with expert precision. From the eerie depths of Black Holes to the luminous runs of Môr Arianrhod, this album is a masterclass in emotional depth and musical intelligence; one to cherish.

“low clouds hang, this land is on fire” is such a beguiling album; the music is gentle and beautiful in places, yet you know there are turbulent emotions beneath the surface. Only an artist with perfect control of their medium could bring so much meaning into and invite so much interpretation from solo guitar music. This is spellbinding and significant; Tashi Dorji operating at the highest level.

Under his “Mind Over Mirrors” moniker, Jaime Fennelly returns to a solo setup on Particles, Peds & Pores, a meditative departure from his previous ensemble works. Blending harmonium with pulsating electronics, the album evokes organic, pastoral landscapes reminiscent of Craven Faults. From the ecclesiastical drones of the “Blank Vessels” trilogy to the sci-fi urgency of “Sulphur Firedots,” Fennelly delivers a deeply satisfying, patient, and immersive sonic journey.