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.
Troubadour, the new full-length from Tiberius on Audio Antihero, sees them perfecting their “noughties emo and the much more general aesthetic of country music”. Blending twangy alt-country and pedal steel with shoegaze and post-hardcore dynamics, it’s a highly original, resonant, and expertly structured album that balances pastoral daydreams with cathartic, complex songwriting.
On their self-titled album, The Cosmic Tones Research Trio construct vibrating pathways of sound that lift you clear of contemporary concerns. It’s not zeitgeisty; it’s expansive spiritual jazz, mystical yet grounded, profoundly improvisational. The Portland trio crafts condensed pieces under five minutes that expand into timeless, textural soundscapes. Like Coltrane, this is music that paints a picture of what peace might look and sound like.
On Inner Day, Jim White expands on his percussive solo debut, creating a fuller, more detailed document. Keyboards, guitar, and even White’s own playful, semi-spoken vocals come to the front. It’s an impressive balancing act —a “clever, controlled use of tension” — between intricate drums and uncanny melodies. While White navigates wonder and trepidation in a mightily refreshing way, you still get the feeling that this is just the start.
On Old Segotia, Seán Mac Erlaine and Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh engage in an intense musical conversation. Rather than compromising between folk and jazz, they create a new palette, crafting varied tracks that shift from smoky grooves to avant-garde improvisation. Augmenting traditional instruments with electronics and field recordings, the duo create a complex, surprising map of new musical terrain.
Emily A. Sprague’s “Cloud Time” is one of the most stunning ambient records in recent memory. Recorded live in Japan, it draws from the “naturalist” school of modular synthesis, engaging with the Japanese tradition of environmental music. Sprague whittled hours of recordings into a suite that is both deeply contemplative and refreshingly human, a “sonic wonderment” of texture and off-the-cuff creativity.
On Merlyn Driver’s debut album, “It Was Also Sometimes Daylight,” there is an ease to his singing and playing that belies the nuance and complexity of his songwriting, which at times approaches genuine poetry. He takes highly personal, confessional songwriting and elevates it with unconventional language. It’s also a timely reminder of the small amount of time and space we all take up on this world.
Greg Jamie is unashamedly preoccupied with the liminal. Across a Violet Pasture, tilts at the hard-to-hit zone between sleep and waking. This is Old Weird America with a nod to the stranger recesses of British hauntology. At times, the Townes Van Zandt comparisons also seem more apposite than ever, a reminder that, for all the uncanny, rootless strangeness of his music, the album is built on Jamie’s outstanding songwriting.
On The Dwarfs Of East Agouza’s “Sasquatch Landslide”, there are instrumental wails and squalls, bits of melody careen into the middle distance, an electronic soup bubbles away, and a thick buzz underpins everything. While it sounds like it could be messy, it’s not; it’s more like the semi-organised bustle of a busy souk, with its tension between chaos and order, where every sound has its meaning and its place.
Michael Hurley’s final album, Broken Homes and Gardens, finds him in essential form: digressive, surreal, jokey, ultimately moving. A folk prankster with a poet’s soul. A fitting way to cap a thirty-odd album legacy that is as important as practically any songwriter you care to mention. He sounds like he had a whole lot more up his sleeve. He always did.
John Elliott of The Little Unsaid has a way of drawing listeners in with universal truths presented in the most personal – and often poetic – of ways. On Stay Fragile All Across This Cold Frontier, the album moves from intimate piano ballads to raw blues-rock and stately meditations, confirming The Little Unsaid as one of the best-kept secrets in contemporary music.