Thomas Blake
Thomas Blake
Thomas Blake lives in the West Country with his wife and his son. He writes things down and looks things up for a living. He likes wine, cricket and modernism. And lots of black coffee.
North Carolina’s Magic Tuber Stringband return with “Heavy Water”, their first album as a full-time trio. Inspired by Courtney Werner’s work as an ecologist on a nuclear-contaminated stretch of the Savannah River, it combines intuitive appreciation for the landscape with intellectual and conceptual rigour — an album so engaged with history and place it’s hard to say where those things end and the music begins.
Lady Maisery and Jimmy Aldridge & Sid Goldsmith return with “Wakefire: A Summer Album”, a full-scale double album that trumps its predecessor in both ambition and reward. Presented as a largely chronological account of summer, twenty-seven tracks might sound like something of a throwback in today’s climate of instant gratification, but they make it seem like a revolutionary act, and a hugely gratifying one at that.
On their self-titled debut “Amarante-Cerisier”, Marine Debilly Cerisier and Mauricio Amarante deliver a fitting addition to the canon of Francophone double-acts, with Fontaine and Areski as closest antecedent. Their free-form folk thrives on paradox and fruitful mystery, weaving insistent bone-dry strums, half-whispered vocals and the odd psychedelic keyboard swirl into a deceptive, refractive collection of sweet, sharp songs.
Adam Ross has become a lynchpin of the ever-fertile Scottish scene. As a songwriter, he is deceptively gentle: his melodies scurry, bound or lope along, sometimes jaunty, sometimes suffused with a light melancholy, while his lyrics are always witty and frequently biting. “Bring On the Apathy”, his third album under his own name, is his most mature and rewarding yet.
Daisy Rickman and Magpahi take a side each on “Ceremonial County Series Vol.XXIII,” the penultimate volume in this extensive Folklore Tapes’ series. Rickman’s piece ties East Sussex bonfire myths to pagan ritual, building an immersive wave of sound. Magpahi summons a malevolent Lancashire water spirit. A startling slice of psych-folk that slips easily between worlds — the unearthly charms of weird England.
Tried To Do’s, Jay Hammond’s second album as Trippers & Askers, follows the jazz-inflected sprawl of ‘Acorn’ with something more introverted and song-based. Shaped by acute personal grief and the aftermath of Hurricane Helene in Asheville, the album turns inward without losing generosity. It’s a slow-burning, finespun record of bold sincerity and steady groundedness.
Swedish singer and musician Sara Parkman’s fourth solo album Aster, atlas tackles the biggest themes: life, death, faith, grief, and the passage of time. From its opening few seconds, it is uncanny and darkly magical. Parkman has given us something precious and gutsy, an album that, like the gardens that inspired it, has its own inscrutable rhythms of growth and decay.
Originally released in 2008 and now reissued with two bonus covers, Hayman, Watkins, Trout and Lee — the quartet of Darren Hayman, David Watkins, Dan Mayfield and David Tattersall — is an absolute joy to rediscover. East London bluegrass played with close-knit, co-operative DIY warmth: witty, lovelorn originals and artfully chosen covers. Think The Basement Tapes with more banjos.
Of all the artists that emerged from the freak folk/New Weird America boom of the early noughties, Josephine Foster is one of the most enduring, and certainly one of the most interesting. On her new album Adormidera, she and Víctor Herrero have created, through a kind of alchemy, an artefact that seems to grow more beautiful with every listen.
On Emily Portman’s fourth solo album, she weaves a tapestry of complex lyrical themes and intricate musical arrangements. Of all the singers and songwriters in British folk music, few have the ability to encapsulate what it means to be human in the way that Portman does. “Dominion of Spells” is a real and vital piece of work, something to be cherished.
Frog have always been brilliant at exposing the emptiness and hollowness at the heart of things, and filling it up, at least temporarily, with their own brand of heartfelt Americana. Eight albums in, and that continues to be the case. Frog For Sale, with its Beatle-baiting title and condensed, pining, piano-oriented sound, is a welcome hit of literate indie wistfulness from one of America’s most consistently impressive bands.
“…an album that flits so easily between past and present, whose songs encompass fluttering beauty and quietly looming presences.” The Little Winters is an album worthy of the clàrsach, with all its historical and cultural importance, and Anna McLuckie, with her clear voice, poetic songwriting and precise, fluid playing, has announced herself as one of British folk music’s most formidable talents.