Graeme Armstrong, John Blek and Plu - new music from Scotland, Ireland and Wales

Some great music has been coming out of the Celtic nations over the past twelve months. Of course, Ireland and Scotland are celebrated for a vibrant music scene, Wales perhaps less so. My eye – and, more to the point, my ears – have been caught by three recent little gems: a debut album by Scottish singer/songwriter Graeme Armstrong (guitarist from the band Talisk,) the eighth studio album from Irish singer/songwriter John Blek and a new album from Welsh trio Plu.

First, to Graeme Armstrong’s stunning You Are Free. Graeme takes traditional songs like ‘Isle of France,’ ‘Fine Flowers in the Valley’ and ‘My Son David’ and presents them in fresh arrangements with nice touches of synth and electric guitar, without losing the deep roots of these songs. Alongside the traditional – and songs by writers like Dick Gaughan and Karine Polwart – Graeme includes some moving original songs of his own such as the title track, ‘William’s Song’ and ‘Sit Alone’ (which features a hip guitar sound reminiscent of the American band Beach House.) But it’s Graeme’s sensitive version of Karine Polwart’s ‘Waterlily’ that stopped me in my tracks. The original is moving enough but Graeme’s version seems even more poignant.

Next up is John Blek’s Until The Rivers Run Dry. I’m not sure how this amazing Cork-based singer/songwriter has recorded seven previous albums without me hearing about him, but I’m certainly listening now. The press release suggested John’s music shows the influence of Paul McCartney and Scott Walker but I wasn’t quite getting those flavours. In fact, trying to find points of reference for John’s sound started to drive me slightly mad – it’s so original and refreshing. There seem to be distant echoes of much older artists like Roy Orbison, a hint of Harry Nilsson, a touch of the melodic pop of the mid-1980s (Danny Wilson? The Dream Academy?) and even a nod to the wistful balladry of the Irish band Bagatelle.

The songwriting could come from an earlier era – the days of Clifford T Ward or Mike Hugg or even Dan Fogelberg – strong, unfussy, 'hooky', perfect. I love John's effortless vocals, the varied arrangements and the instrumentation. The opening track ‘St John’s Eve’ should – in any normal world – be a number-one hit with its luscious string arrangement and baritone guitar sound. ‘Lovelorn’ (and the title track) are beautiful melodies that could have been Gene Pitney hits in a parallel universe. If, like me, you were unaware of John Blek, it’s time you caught up with him.

Finally, to Wales for Caernarfonshire trio Plu with their fourth album Tri. Plu (meaning ‘feathers’ in Welsh) are siblings Elan, Marged and Gwilym Rhys. They describe their music as “alternative Welsh-language pop-folk” and have appeared at both Glastonbury and Green Man Festival. The guitar playing and vocals are impressive in their clarity and purity and the music ranges across the spectrum of folk, Americana and pop – all sung in Welsh. It’s quite a laid-back affair, more suited to a quiet evening at home rather than as an accompaniment to driving with all the windows down. As with John Blek, I spent quite a while trying to think who Plu reminded me of – and then I got it. On ‘Ben i Waered,’ and on opening track ‘Dinistrio Ni’ especially, they sound uncannily like a Welsh version of The Mamas and the Papas – and maybe that’s exactly what the world needs now.

Links: 

Graeme Armstrong You Are Free (Graeme Armstrong Records)

John Blek Until The Rivers Run Dry (We Are Rats Recordings)

Plu Tri (Sbrigyn Ymborth) 

The joys and perils of solo festival-going

I write this in the short, overcast days of late January which seems like a very good time to look both backwards and forwards. Looking backwards, I’m going to indulge in a little review of a couple of the highlights of 2022; looking forwards, I anticipate some of the pleasures 2023 has in store.

Regular readers of my blogs may be aware that, halfway through last year, I acquired a micro-camper which opened up new possibilities for the summer. You can read more about the story (and back-story) to my micro-camping escapades in my slowly unfolding companion blog Travels with my Dulcimer - Micro-adventures in a micro-camper …with a dulcimer. After a ‘maiden voyage’ to Ross on Wye in early August to test out van-life I travelled down to the Isle of Purbeck in Dorset for the Purbeck Valley Folk Festival.

Among the many acts I saw perform at Purbeck were the cello/accordion duo Good Habits (who I’ve been raving about on this blog ever since reviewing their debut album in 2020.) In fact, I got to see Good Habits twice on consecutive days. Chatting with Pete and Bonnie, it turned out Pete is from my hometown of Shrewsbury. In the evening, I caught the much-anticipated and recently-formed ‘folk supergroup’ The Magpie Arc, the Sheffield/Edinburgh collective involving Nancy Kerr, Martin Simpson, Findlay Napier, Tom A Wright (of The Albion Band) and Alex Hunter. Martin Simpson (who I’ve seen solo several times) seemed to be having way too much fun playing electric guitar. My first evening at Purbeck was rounded off by the amazing N’famady Kouyaté ­– balafon maestro from Guinea (now based in Cardiff.)

The next day, it’s Purbeck Rising – a showcase of emerging artists and outstanding among these is Den Miller, a singer-songwriter from Keighley in Yorkshire. Not only does he perform a powerful song on the autoharp but Den also wows the audience with his satirical ‘Right-Winger Folk Singer’. The second evening draws to an end with Show of Hands.

Despite having had fairly major dental surgery just days before I decide to put myself down for a half-hour slot on the open mic stage. This seems to go okay but it’s only later, when I catch my reflection in the mirror, that I realise my face is so swollen and bruised from the dentistry the audience must have thought I’d been in a bar-room brawl. 

The real highlight of Purbeck, though, wasn’t my swollen-faced open mic set but two opportunities to see the great Gabriel Moreno. Readers of this blog may have seen my review of the Gibraltarian poet and singer-songwriter’s album ‘The Year of the Rat.’ I love Moreno’s way with words and his dark, warm Leonard Cohen-esque delivery. It was a treat to see him taking part in a songwriters’ forum on the final day of the festival, alongside Steve Knightley (of Show of Hands) and Michele Stodart (the bassist and singer from The Magic Numbers.) After this, Gabriel performed a brilliant set with his band The Quivering Poets. The evening was rounded off with an exuberant show by Celtic fusion band Shooglenifty.

Making hay while the festival season sun shone, I headed home from Purbeck only to set off a few days later for Shrewsbury Folk Festival. As I mentioned earlier, Shrewsbury is my hometown but, in many ways, spending three or four days at Shrewsbury Folk Festival is a very different experience to spending a few days in Shrewsbury. Several dulcimer friends were at the festival, providing introductory workshops to the instrument and – though I hadn’t planned to – I helped them in a small way with some of their dulcimer activities.

On my first day I catch Scottish folk trio Talisk, (including guitarist Graeme Armstrong, whose debut solo album ‘You Are Free’ was another one of the best folk albums of 2022.) Whether I’m soaking up the music and the sunshine or playing a bit of dulcimer, the weekend goes well until the Saturday evening when someone steals my folding camping chair. One of the hazards of being a solo festival-goer is that there’s no one to watch over your chair while you head to the beer tent for a refill. Having left my chair a couple of times at Purbeck it never occurred to me that anyone in Shrewsbury would steal it! Luckily I’ve got a back-up picnic blanket but, at my age, a man likes to sit in a chair (albeit one that is collapsible) while watching the acts. 

The loss of my chair is disproportionality shocking to me. I'm angry and shocked because I feel sure nobody from Shrewsbury would be so wicked as to steal a camping chair and I'm also upset because they have taken advantage of the fact that my late wife is no longer able to keep an eye on it for me (as, of course, she is no longer sat in the camping chair next to me!) It's not just a chair I'm missing. I try to convey some of my dismay to the stewards who are all lovely and kind but can do nothing to remedy the theft. Still, I’ve learnt my lesson. Next time, I’ll have to risk appearing weird by making friends with the audience members sitting next to me – or else take my chair with me and risk losing my carefully chosen spot.

And thus, it's in a supine position on a picnic blanket that I find myself, on August Bank Holiday Monday afternoon, lying in a field while Judy Collins sings ‘Both Sides Now’ and tells anecdotes about her contemporaries – Dylan, Joan Baez and Leonard Cohen. Remarkably, the 83-year-old’s voice is still clear and distinctive, with that same searing gaze that inspired Crosby, Stills and Nash’s ‘Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.’ And this is all happening in my hometown, where the 12-year-old me used to repeatedly play Judy’s 1973 single ‘Cook With Honey’ on a little record player in the front room.

Shrewsbury Folk Festival is an unusually immersive experience. Camping areas are interspersed within the festival site and, in the bars, the impromptu sound of English and Irish music is omnipresent. There’s a strong emphasis on dance, too, from Morris dancing and frenetic late-night ceilidhs to a French dance workshop with the Rheingans Sisters. Workshops and activities form an essential element, giving children and adults the opportunity to try out unfamiliar instruments and learn new skills.

The production values of the concerts are outstanding with excellent sound and lighting and large video screens projecting the on-stage action. Along with Judy Collins, The Unthanks were another highlight, as was the delicate English Americana of Hannah Sanders and Ben Savage, huddled – bluegrass-style – around a single microphone. I chatted with Hannah after their afternoon set, (discussing the pros and cons of playing the dulcimer standing up) and bought a copy of Hannah and Ben’s beautiful album, ‘Ink Of The Rosy Morning’ – another superb 2022 release. Later that day, I saw Hannah and Ben play again on the Bellstone Marquee and once again caught Good Habits on the ‘village stage’ before bumping into them wandering around. (I’m sure they think I’m stalking them now, having followed them from Purbeck to Shrewsbury!) 

The vibe at Shrewsbury Folk Festival is very different to Purbeck – Shrewsbury festival-goers seem keener on taking part in activities (and they’re very big on dancing) but are perhaps less open-minded about the music. For example, the Haitian voodoo rock of Moonlight Benjamin was evidently a little too raucous for some, and yet the audience didn’t seem to mind bagpipes, from the high energy Scottish folk-rock of Skerryvore to the Galician pipes of Carlos Núñez, who in the festival finale, had no trouble finding countless volunteers to clamber up and dance on the stage.

And now it’s 2023. I’ve already booked a return trip to Purbeck where this year I’ll be able to see, among others, global folk collective Mishra (whose ‘Reclaim’ was my favourite album of 2021.) Also among the 2023 lineup at Purbeck is the duo Touki (French-American Cory Seznec’s collaboration with the great Senegalese musician Amadou Diagne – featured on this blog in 2017.) Apart from Purbeck, I’ll be going a-dulcimering in Somerset again and hope to take in one or two other festivals. And, this year, I’ll be keeping a close eye on to my camping chair.

John Buchan and a different pair of shoes

My drinking friends at the pub and I have, over recent weeks, been working extra hard to put the world to rights. My mate Phil, for example has recently re-read Orwell’s ‘1984’ and has been providing a commentary on its uncanny relevance to the modern state of things. For my part, I’ve been enthusing about the writings of John Buchan. Taking a break from my usual high-fibre diet of literary fiction, I’ve been indulging in a few of the ‘ripping yarns’ of the Scottish-born author, best known for ’The Thirty-Nine Steps’.

Buchan (1875-1940) had a remarkable life as a novelist, historian and diplomat who ended up as Governor General of Canada. His literary speciality was writing what he called ‘shockers’, by which he meant an adventure story that combined personal and political dramas, where the events were pretty implausible but the reader is just able to believe in them. If you can disregard the casual, unselfconscious racism and misogyny that was characteristic of early 21^st century writing Buchan’s adventure stories are still great fun. Part of the fun for me is his use of curious contemporary words and phrases which have since become anachronisms - but are surely worth reviving.  

For example, in ‘Mr Standfast’ there’s the use of the phrase “a different pair of shoes” where, nowadays, we’d be more likely to refer (with no greater logic) to “a different kettle of fish”: “Letchford was a different pair of shoes. He was some kind of a man, to begin with, and had an excellent brain and the worst manners conceivable...”

When reading ‘The Thirty-Nine Steps’ I had to look up the word ‘ulster’ which, if you didn’t know, is a rather long, double-breasted coat, with two vertical, parallel rows of buttons, as in: “He lent me a big driving coat—and never troubled to ask why I had started on a motor tour without possessing an ulster...”

And do you know what it is to feel ‘hipped’? In ‘The Power-House’ the protagonist Leithen admits: “I had had a bad reaction from the excitements of the summer, and in these days I was feeling pretty well hipped and overdone...” In US English ‘feeling hipped’ seems to mean being excessively interested or preoccupied with something, (which could the case here,) but there is an old-fashioned use in British English of ‘hipped’ meaning depressed or melancholy. This seems to fit better with the feeling of being “pretty well hipped and overdone.”

Apart from these linguistic curiosities, Buchan could make some serious and prescient observations through the vehicle of his ‘shockers’. In ‘The Power-House’, Leithen meets Lumley ­- a man who inhabits a world “without the ring of civilisation”, a man of “pure intelligence … stripped of every shred of humanity”. In a chilling exchange Lumley says:

“Did you ever reflect, Mr. Leithen, how precarious is the tenure of the civilisation we boast about?"

"I should have thought it fairly substantial," I said, "and the foundations grow daily firmer."

He laughed. "That is the lawyer's view, but believe me you are wrong. Reflect, and you will find that the foundations are sand. You think that a wall as solid as the earth separates civilisation from barbarism. I tell you the division is a thread, a sheet of glass. A touch here, a push there, and you bring back the reign of Saturn..."

We have only to think of President Trump’s supporters storming Congress in January 2021 or Putin’s forces directly targeting a children's hospital and a maternity ward in Mariupol in March 2022 to see how thin is the line between civilisation and barbarism.  

‘The Power-House’ was published in 1916 but what Lumley tells Leithen about our politicians could have been inspired by the pandemic’s PPE scandal or the financial instability caused by Liz Truss’s brief tenure as Prime Minister: “Take the business of Government. When all is said, we are ruled by the amateurs and the second-rate. The methods of our departments would bring any private firm to bankruptcy. The methods of Parliament—pardon me—would disgrace any board of directors...”

It wasn’t just George Orwell who predicted the state in which we would find ourselves.

Some Hauntological Musical Curiosities for Halloween

If you’re looking for some fresh music to add to your Halloween playlists here’s a few spooky selections from the world of slightly strange folk music, to make a change from I Put a Spell On You and The Monster Mash.

First up, is the eponymous debut album by The Witching Tale. What could be more appropriate for Halloween? I’m afraid, on first encounter, I was all too ready to dismiss this as just so much airy-fairy hokum. The purple prose of the press release didn’t help to dispel this impression, describing The Witching Tale as “a black celebration of the magical power of eroticism.” And yet, listening to these ten tracks in the days leading up to Halloween last year, two thoughts occurred to me. First, this is the perfect soundtrack for an All Hallows’ Eve gathering. Second, the music is intriguing and – dare I say – enchanting.

The Witching Tale are Michael J York (synthesisers, bagpipes, piano, hurdy-gurdy and a host of other instruments) and Katharine Blake (vocals and recorders.) Blake is best known as a founding member of Mediaeval Baebes. The blend of multi-layered analogue synths, traditional instruments and Blake’s flawless voice creates a powerful atmosphere redolent of folk horror. Tracks like ‘The Falling Garden,’ with its off-kilter harmonies and straggling recorders, could be music from ‘The Wicker Man’ or ‘Children of the Stones.’ If hauntological curiosities are your thing, you too may fall under The Witching Tale’s spell.

My second offering is another debut album, Ingen Mere Gråter by Ævestaden. There’s a subgenre called ‘dream pop’ that includes bands from Cocteau Twins to Beach House – Ævestaden’s music could be described as ‘dream folk.’ This Norwegian/Swedish trio’s debut is a little, enigmatic gem – and I’m completely captivated by it.

Ævestaden are Eir Vatn Strøm, Levina Storåkern and Kenneth Lien, all fine multi-instrumentalists and singers. They describe their songs as being about the conscious and the subconscious, the secular and the sacred, life and death. They combine traditional instrumentation – lyre, fiddle, mouth harp, langeleik and kantele – with a subtle use of electronics, creating a bewitching sonic backdrop to their melodically adventurous vocals. It’s hard to find comparisons but, at times, Ævestaden’s music reminded me of English psychedelic folk duo The Left Outsides.

Ingen Mere Gråter is made up of three traditional songs and three original songs, the finale being ‘Flytta’ where, the music is gradually joined by the sound of a rainstorm which ends abruptly before the final track ‘Heilo’ – thirty-seven seconds of birdsong fading into the distance – as if to suggest, where human words and music cease, nature endures. There’s a definite other-worldliness to Ævestaden’s music, which lends itself perfectly to this season of liminality.

Finally, singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Anna Tam’s album Hatching Hares. As well as playing cello and piano, Anna uses more historic folk instruments like nyckelharpa, viola da gamba and hurdy gurdy to accompany her singing. As it happens, Anna (like Katharine Blake of The Witching Tale) is a former member of Medieval Baebes.

Hatching Hares includes ten songs and five instrumentals (most of the latter being traditional tunes.) There’s a lot of variety on the album but I’m including it in my spooky Halloween selection here because there’s something a little eerie, to my ears, about tunes like ‘St Martin’s Waltz’ and the song ‘The Snow It Melts the Soonest.’ What’s more, Anna includes a proper ghost story, enhanced by creepy electronic effects, in the form of ‘Holland Handkerchief.’ So, whether it’s The Witching Tale’s spellbinding soundscapes, Ævestaden’s Scandinavian dream-folk or the ghostly singing and playing of Anna Tam, why not try out these spine-chilling selections this Halloween?  

Gabriel Moreno, origami rats and sellotaped hearts

I confess to a real phobia of rodents so, when I first came across an album called ‘The Year of the Rat,’ its cover emblazoned with an image of a rat – albeit an origami rat – I had my doubts. But Gabriel Moreno’s fourth album, released earlier this year, won me over with its charm and inventiveness. Moreno is a Gibraltarian poet and singer-songwriter who also happens to be Gibraltar’s Cultural Ambassador for 2022 and his music has been compared to Leonard Cohen, Neil Diamond and Georges Brassens. Like Cohen, Moreno has published several books of poetry, in both English and Spanish. And, like Cohen, he favours a nylon-stringed guitar and a deep voice delivering poetic lyrics. On some tracks, like ‘When the City Wakes Up,’ he even uses a chorus of female backing singers.

Even before considering the lyrics, I was intrigued by some of the songs titles – ‘Dance in an Empty Field,’ ‘Sellotape My Heart.’ But the lyrics are remarkable; they’re full of delightful surprises but are never awkward or overblown. There is a danger – with poets who are also songwriters – that their song lyrics are no more than poems set to redundant music, that the words have more weight than the music, as if the text could do its job on its own without the need for a musical accompaniment. Ideally, the music should be integral to the lyrics, and vice versa – otherwise it’s not songwriting but mere words-set-to-music. Moreno understand this. Being both a poet and a songwriter, he makes the words and music work perfectly together.

There’s great humour too. ‘Solitude’ addresses Solitude personified:

“...Solitude, I am sick and tired of being alone with you, surely things must change...” and “...O solitude you charlatan, you made porridge with our brains...”

‘Feel Like Dancing’ is an alternative take on the countless pop songs that express the desire to get on the dance floor; Moreno’s is a tribute to the introvert’s joy in dancing alone at home:

“I feel like dancing, alone in my room, / here I am the genius of mirrors and cells, / I am building a dance floor with my favourite books, / I am closing the window to my worldly concerns...” while ‘Everyday News’ is a beautiful, piano-based song, which has the lullaby-quality of some of Tom Waits’ early heart-breaking songs. Moreno’s music, though, has an unmistakably European feel, with its lyrics referencing Baudelaire and Yeats and a musical landscape that reminds me of the best of Peter Sarstedt.

On the off chance, I searched to see if Moreno might be touring the UK anytime soon. It turns out he’s appearing at several festivals this summer including the Purbeck Valley Folk Festival in Dorset. There he’ll be playing on Sunday 21 August with his band The Quivering Poets (who are described as “a troupe of highly acclaimed musicians from the London and Barcelona Alternative Folk scene.”) He’s also taking part in a Songwriters’ Circle on the Sunday morning with Steve Knightley and Kathryn Williams. So, I’ve gone ahead and booked a ticket for Purbeck. I’m really looking forward to seeing this unique artist perform live.

Frigg, The Mysterines, Nick Mason, Red Guitars, Justin Mauro & Mauro Durante and more – and it’s only June!

 Well, we’re practically halfway through the year and I haven’t told you the half of what I’ve been up to. So, here goes... I won’t mention all the downers – dentist appointments and funerals, podiatrists and plantar fasciitis etc. Let’s just focus on the fun stuff. So, in January, I had the privilege of interviewing Esko and Petri – two members of Finnish folk band Frigg - for an article which appeared in the May issue of the wonderful Songlines magazine.

Throughout February and March I was still contending with electricians, plasterers, painters and carpet fitters coming back and forth to repair and renovate my attic bedroom (see preceding blog post if you’re really interested!) but I did manage to catch some live music in the form of The Mysterines at Birmingham’s Castle and Falcon (where I’d seen This Is the Kit in November.) The Mysterines were very loud and powerful and their single ‘Life's a Bitch (But I Like it So Much)’ has been regularly disturbing my early morning snoozes, thanks to lots of airplay on BBC6 Music.

In April, I saw the American singer-songwriter Christopher Paul Stelling at a lovely venue - the Kitchen Garden - in Birmingham. Support was provided by my mate, the terrific Son of John. The following week I headed north to Newcastle for a ‘Spring Fling.’ This is much less romantic than it sounds – the Spring Fling is a gathering of dulcimer players organised by my mate Steve Gray on behalf of the Nonsuch Dulcimer Club. I’ve contributed an article to the club’s newsletter and – if you’re good – I’ll reprint it here on my blog. 

After Newcastle, it was time for some more live music – this time in the guise of former Pink Floyd drummer Nick Mason and his Saucerful of Secrets at Birmingham Symphony Hall. Saucerful of Secrets perform the early music of Pink Floyd and the band also includes former Floyd bassist Guy Pratt and former Spandau Ballet singer/guitarist Gary Kemp (the two are evidently best mates, judging by the highly recommended Rockonteurs podcast which they produce together.)

April ended with yet another gig in Birmingham and this was the best I’ve been to in many a long year. Birmingham’s O2 Institute played host to a reformed Red Guitars – one of my favourite indie bands of the 1980s. In the early eighties, while the aforementioned Spandau Ballet were topping the charts with hits like True and Gold, Hull-based Red Guitars were crafting a unique blend of indie rock and African jit-jive and releasing a classic gem of an album called Slow to Fade. Seeing Red Guitars play songs like ‘Remote Control,’ ‘Crocodile Tears’ and ‘Good Technology’ more than 30 years after this short-lived band split up seemed nothing short of miraculous and I was completely overwhelmed with a combination of joy and nostalgia for my youth. It was a pleasure to shake hands with bassist Lou Loudhailer, (who has featured elsewhere on this blog as part of Agent Starling.)

May meant more dulcimer playing. This time, a return visit to Halsway Manor in Somerset. It was a delight to meet mountain dulcimer teachers Doug Berch and Susan Trump and to reconnect with old friends and fellow dulcimerists. This was third visit to Halsway Manor and it’s always musically inspiring and spiritually refreshing. 

But no sooner was I back in Worcestershire, than it was off to Bewdley to see another remarkable gig – Justin Mauro and Mauro Durante. Justin and Mauro are the winners of this year’s Songlines Fusion Award Winner and they were amazing live – with their trance-like fiddle and electric guitar duets and the deceptively big sound of Durante’s frame drum.

Which brings us more or less up to date. Phew.

Seeing double - Good Habits and Agent Starling

Good Habits are a duo from Manchester - Bonnie Schwarz (vocals/cello) and Pete Shaw (accordion/cajón.) By a quirk of fate, they were touring New Zealand when the pandemic left them stranded in the town of Paekākāriki, so they took advantage of their exile to record their delightful debut album, Going for Broke.

The combination of cello and accordion might sound like an unpromising, insufficient line-up but Shaw's accordion displays a rich variety of styles, an equal partner to Schwarz's cello, while the latter's vocals are engagingly clear and unaffected.

On first hearing Going for Broke I found it an upbeat, pop-folk affair, reminiscent of Fairground Attraction - pleasing enough but not earth-shattering. But these songs take a while to reveal fully their complexity and the sophistication of their lyrics, melodies and arrangements. The duo are musical tricksters, relishing irregular time signatures and a tendency to reprise motifs just when you think the song is over.

After a few more listens I grew to love the emotional warmth and fullness of Good Habits' sound, so I was pleased to hear they’ve recently released a follow-up album, Antipody. One of the highlights of the new collection is a cover of ‘She Bangs the Drum’ (the 1989 hit by fellow Mancunians the Stone Roses.)

As with Going for Broke, Antipody chugs along, melodically and rhythmically hooking the listener from the opening track I Will Still Be Here. Schwarz's vocal blends warmly with the backdrop of her own cello and Shaw’s accordion and, best of all, the duo have retained their sense of playfulness. Now back in the UK, Good Habits are touring a number of venues, including Bristol Folk Festival and Shropshire’s adorable Beardy Folk Festival in June.

Another unusual duo who have recently released their second album are Agent Starling, featuring hurdy-gurdy player Quentin Budworth and Louise Duffy-Howard (aka Lou Loudhailer) on vocals, bass and rhythm tracks. Back in the 1980s, the latter was the bassist with one of my favourite indie bands, Red Guitars (who have recently reformed and are touring again.)

Agent Starling’s debut album European Howl was a complex, immersive and at times disorienting listening experience and their new release, Constellation of Birds, displays more of their mesmerising and highly original sound. There are seven new songs plus two traditional tunes, O’Carolan’s Irish waltz ‘Bridget Cruise’ (which is given an oddly Japanese flavour) and a version of Swedish polska ‘Hälleforsnäsar’ embedded inside a track called ‘Scandiland’ which begins like the incidental music to a Scandi-noir thriller. As with the first album, Constellation of Birds features the violin and cello of special guest Dexter Duffy-Howard.

With tracks like ‘Paqaratz’ and ‘The Stonemason’s Dream,’ Constellation of Birds is an album that firmly establishes Agent Starling as incomparable purveyors of a unique, edgy, off-kilter soundtrack to modern life.