This is curious, an album of mimetically frugal songs all reverentially brushed acoustica on the "Warp" record label. Don't they just do dance stuff? Anyhow, this maybe signals a seismic shift in their policy, but even if it doesn't listening to "Flashlight Seasons" it's obvious what encouraged the label to sign Gravenhurst as this is lovely, occasionally fabulous stuff.
Nick Talbot's keening voice relates theses ten waspishly personal tales with an air of often weary resignation as if he's come to the end of an extremely long tether and cant be arsed with anything anymore. "I know anger, I know what its for" he sings on "Tunnels" while sounding like he hasn't got the energy to pull his own trousers up. Lyrically this album is superb, twisting new shapes and nuances out of the language of despair and ennui and imbuing the whole album with an eerie fog bound atmosphere. It sounds quintessentially English, but not in any way that I've heard before. This is the England of lonely skeletal trees and roosting rooks in mist drenched meadows. Of brackish canals sliding oily ,under dank dripping tunnels. Before I waffle on like an A level Literature student anymore I'll turn to the music. Lots of precisely plucked acoustic guitar augmented occasionally by harmonica, rivulets of fervent keyboards or on "Damage" spooky trail of pedal steel.
Some may find the lack of variety a tad wearing, but there is enough ravishing material to keep the interest piqued. On songs like "Fog round the Figurehead" and "The Ice Tree" you will be enraptured at the delicate beauty on show and taken as a whole this a wonderful album . Another one to add to the pile marked desolate and gorgeous, and as any right thinking music fan knows you can never get enough of desolate and gorgeous.