Albums

Paul Smith and Rachel Unthank gave a captivating performance of their album Nowhere and Everywhere, and for a couple of hours, the world ground to a halt as we were taken on a journey of stories and myths. I only hope they keep telling them.

At the forefront of both tropical and early psychedelic, electronic/synthesised music, with Ecuatoriana, Analog Africa transports the listener to a parallel universe where Polibio Mayorga is confirmed as a legendary icon of Ecuadorian music.

John Ward’s ‘Congress’ album is a solidly crafted collection of songs and poetic narratives based around the real events of Buffalo Bill’s visit to the UK in 1903 and 1904.

Steve Gunn and David Moore’s ‘Let the Moon be a Planet’ feels improvised and free in nature. Still, its natural idiosyncrasies and fine nuances invite and reward deep listening—a quietly rich, contemplative and satisfying experience.

Cinder Well’s ‘Cadence’ is something of a journey. Meandering, non-linear, but full of care and wisdom, it is an astonishingly powerful piece of work that seems to have been conceived in uncertainty but realised with the supreme assurance of one of the most consummate songwriters around.

Yalla Miku is an exhilarating debut that reaches beyond the norm with its vitality and passion. The Geneva-based group have produced an album that is truly ‘Musique Sans Frontières’.

With ‘I Saw A Star…’, Bennet Wilson Poole have produced an album that is as exhilaratingly brilliant and accomplished as their debut. It is as prime an example of high-class, polished, rewarding and entertaining music that you are likely to hear.

In Stolen From God, Reg Meuross has unquestionably written his masterpiece in a song cycle that turns an unflinching eye on the toxic legacy of the transatlantic slave trade, especially in his home in the South West of England.

Tell Me World is the debut album from Tapestri, a duo featuring Lowri Evans and Sarah Zyborska and surely a contender for the Welsh answer to First Aid Kit.

Tape Runs Out do more with less than just about anyone out there. With Floodhead, they have created something bordering on magical that should take the world by storm, it certainly has taken my corner of it.

The genius of Common Nation of Sorrow is how Rachel Baiman can harness her songs in a way that generates something gently compelling, creating her calls to action, yet doing so in a way that never loses the appeal to the heart and common sense.

Milton Hide’s album was designed to capture the serenity of walking the ancient path through the intertwined trees; The Holloway definitely has its fingers dipped in the sparkle jar.