= July 2017 =  
Dark Fog
The Left Outsides
Leigh Folk Festival comp
Kids soundtrack
Easy Rider soundtrack
Sidewalk Society
Anton Barbeau
Marc Jonson
In Gowan Ring


(LP from bandcamp )

Conceived as a soundtrack to Otto Preminger's film of the same name, Dark Fog have created two sides of psychedelic haze, noise and wonder that stands alone as an album designed to be heard in one sitting, whether it works with the film is something I cannot comment on however.

     Despite having 12 or so tracks, the music seems to run as one continuous piece, a brief swirl of noise giving way to some powerful drumming and distorted guitar as the album takes flight reminding me of Traffic Sound and free festival mode Hawkwind having a bit of a late night jam in a field somewhere, a full moon hanging overhead and smiling on the revellers. As the music moves forward the atmosphere is dense and sticky, vocals getting lost in the vortex of sound, effects vying with each other for attention, the music seemingly falling in on itself until it implodes into a black hole of psych loveliness, weird chords creeping through the spaces and stretching time as they do so. At this point I am reminded of Ash Ra and Timothy Leary on their excellent “Seven Up” LP with shades of the Elephant six collective thrown in as well, the drums and some fierce guitar then taking us back out into space and leading a merry Kraut/Psych dance all the way to the end of side one, which can go on a very long time if you are not concentrating as a locked groove spins endlessly, the listener just thinking the band have locked into some motorik groove for a while until you finally realise, something that happened to me several times.

    Over on side two the locked groove finally moves forward and then fades, lost in a cloud of noise, the returning drums beating in a more mellow fashion although whispered vocals and droning feedback soon destroy any such notion, the music just taking a quick Hendrix Inspired breather, resting in a long forgotten lysergic cave before launching again with more experimental seventies rock madness that cloaks you completely.

    Even more way out than the first side, the second half sees the band stretch out musically, drones, riffs, spaciness and fragile noise all beautifully blended for one of those late night, choose your own fuel, lie on your back kinda things, the album brought to not quite a conclusion by another locked groove that may fool the unwary.

   A future underground classic like they made in the good old days, you know you want some. (Simon Lewis)



THE LEFT OUTSIDES – THERE IS A PLACE (Cassette album from Eggs In Aspic http://www.eggsinaspic.com/)

Indulge me for a moment. The vinyl revival of recent years can in some respects be viewed in parallel with what has happened in politics, in particular what has become known as the Corbyn Factor. A seemingly redundant and written off old format beloved only to a dogged, hardcore band of refuseniks gradually sparks back into life and gathers momentum (ouch). The die-hards then feel vindicated, while those who had forsaken the cause now rush headlong to their attics to dust off their old paraphernalia or dash to hastily restocked online/high street retailers for their new turntables/JC4PM t-shirts, while a whole new generation becomes enthused and rush to embrace the cause.

This much I get, but how on earth do you explain cassette-only releases? In nostalgia terms it’s the equivalent of opening a spam and powdered eggs stall or trying to resurrect Elvis. In short, a nice idea perhaps but surely a step too far, but then what do I know?

Step forward Alison Cotton and Mark Nicholas – The Left Outsides - and their partners in analogue magnetic tape, Newcastle based Eggs In Aspic, with this limited run of C-36 cassettes of most welcome new songs and some reworked material from a soundtrack they wrote and recorded for Gus Alvarez’s film Stand And Deliver. Darker and less immediate than its predecessor The Shape Of Things To Come, the overall feel here is woozy, unsettling and definitely “of the forest” that provides the inspiration for these beguiling and often sublime compositions.

Ushered in by the disarmingly simple yet intense beauty of ‘Cry Of The Hunter’ (which you can imagine scoring an especially poignant episode of Inspector Morse) and the sickly, stripped-down, funereal shoegaze of ‘Trick Of The Light’ this represents a solemn and perhaps logical progression from the duo’s folksy moorings.

The lush but all too brief ‘Into The Deep’ persists with the shadowy subject matter, before the shards of guitar, mournful sawing and cavernous, wordless vocals on ‘Time Makes A Fool Of Us All’ (a sentiment I’m constantly reminded of these days) provides a genuinely transcendent moment. If this doesn’t make the hairs on your arms stand up then please accept my congratulations on an exfoliation job overdone. You’ll be jolted back into the room (or wherever takes your listening pleasure) courtesy of the sharply anachronistic ‘odd chapter’ here, characterised by the exquisite, sixties-style psych pop harmonies of ‘Under Noonday Sun’. By contrast, ‘The House Of The Stone Place’ (you’d be forgiven for thinking it was the eponymous track as the album title crops up a few times in the lyrics) exudes an achingly wistful longing and an arrangement and melody to cry for.

Mark’s smoky, sensitive vocal on the excellent ‘The Civil War Lament’ and the interplay between the two protagonists work especially well. There’s an innocence here that, at times, provides a brief and welcome glimpse into the world of early ISB before they all got that wee bit too ludicrous. Definitely single material and, with a fair wind a bit of well-deserved airplay surely beckons (cassette singles, though?). ‘The Creeping Fog’ provides the suitably spooky and vaguely ill-starred descent into twilight, capped off with Alison’s haunting, spoken word epilogue. ‘Isn’t it good to be lost in the wood’ asked one S Barrett, Cambridge, no stranger we understand to psychological “evening light”. On this evidence then most definitely, resplendent as it is in its enigmatically verdant light and shade (although thankfully not too much of the former).

Word is that the totemic Cardinal Fuzz will be releasing a vinyl version this autumn (you see all that crap at the outset had some purpose after all), so fear not if by the time this hits your screens the limited cassette-only runs have sold out. It’s an audacious and dare I say welcome move from a pioneering label that has done as much as anyone to champion the new psychedelic movement. But then, this slightly understated, sombre little beauty is as lysergic sounding – more so in fact – than what’s produced by many of the amped-up riff monsters who all too often lay claim to the brand. Both band and label are dear to our hearts here at Terrascope and we wish them both every success in the world in this venture. We just hope that neither of them also happens to be sitting on a warehouse full of shellac or old wax cylinders.

In the meantime I’ll be up in the attic looking for a tape deck.
(Ian Fraser)



(LP  from www.leighfolkfestival.com )

Celebrating 25 years of the Leigh Folk Festival  Dog Days, Devil Fish & Darkest England: Songs & Tunes from 25 years of the Leigh Folk Festival is a various artist compilation of 20 tracks issued on double vinyl with gatefold sleeve, designed by Dom Cooper.  This is the first vinyl release from the label Thames Delta Recording Co. MUD009 

Starting in 1992 this free festival has gone from strength to strength, and over the intervening years the Leigh Folk Festival has steadfastly developed in scope and scale to now stand as the UK’s largest free folk festival.

Sonic Detritus kick things off with ‘Bells’ a 15 second sample of peeling church bells.  Rob Habron and Emma Reid pair ‘Great Uncle Henry’ with ‘Waiting For The Rain’ on a duet featuring English concertina and Fiddle.  The Owl Service, mainstays of the festival for many years and indeed based in Leigh, deliver a hazy watery based ‘Standing On The Shore’ a delightful song written by Johnny Moynihan and Terry Woods which first appeared on their Sweeney’s Men album ‘Tracks Of Sweeney’ and covered in fine style by Moynihan’s then girlfriend Anne Briggs amongst others. Air and water, grass and sand.

The unmistakable voice of Alasdair Roberts intones a bleak, campaign tune, depicting Wellington’s first, unsuccessful, siege of Burgos Castle, with the traditional song ‘Jamie Foyers’ accompanied by piano and pump organ, it first appeared on Ord’s Bothy Ballads, about songs from north eastern Scottish farm workers.  Lost Harbours ‘Lake’ a previously unreleased Richard Thompson song, is delivered with droning violins and hushed, spectral vocals, reminding me of the great Natural Snow Buildings.  Jolting us awake with his punk /folk Alex Rex delivers ‘When You Have A Hammer’. Alex is the alter ego of Alex Neilson, who here ends side one, with a raging murderous tune, that was released on record store day earlier this year.  Alex is of course the well known drummer and vocalist for Trembling Bells and has played with many others, including Shirley Collins and Will Oldham, first coming to my attention in the short lived Scottish band Lucky Luke, who made a fine album called ‘Patrick The Survivor’ in 2005.

Side two starts with The Owl Service member Jason Steel, who here, on his own song ‘Abigail’ performs a seven minute dread filled epic, played on eerie bowed and then finger picked banjo, singing this song with it’s ”cold black nights” during which he has “seen some reddish work done”.  Trevor Watts and Peter Knight arrive with ‘On Reflection’ recorded live in St Cement’s Church from the 2009 festival, a duet played on saxophone and fiddle, previously unreleased, combining nicely on this seven minute jazz folk rhapsody.  Estuary Song Writing Project concludes the side, with ‘Tilbury Jack’ an eight minute collaboration, comprising of Hazel Askew, M.G. Boulter, Lucy Farrell, Piers Haslam, Roshi Nasehi, Nick Pynn, Alasdair Roberts and Kate Waterfield; a tidal lament delivered from a dockside bar, a beautiful, haunting ensemble piece.

Side three and Emily Portman arrives with a classic rendition of her song ‘Fine Silica’ of diving for pearls, glowing amongst the waterweeds, it is a lovely spectral folk ballad. Dark Globes reinterpret the Bert Jansch song ‘Fresh as a Sweet Sunny Morning’ with a gently seething mesh of jangly guitars, fuzz and synths,  this one alone is worth the price of admission.  Dark Patrick take on the traditional song ‘Riddles’ in fine style” lay the bent to the bonnie broom” finger picked guitars, drones ,harps, tin whistles and eastern flavours all blending together deliciously in this haunting tune.  Danny Pedler and Rosie Butler-Hall a young folk duo, combine the traditional ‘Bold Riley’ and ‘Charlie’s March’ to good effect, playing Hurdy Gurdy and Violin. It was recorded live from St Margaret’s Church in Wiltshire. Their two voices combine and complement each other perfectly.  Oliver Cherer closes out the side with a rousing sea shanty ‘Holloway’, it’s a hard, hard life for a sailor at sea, or indeed a multi faceted musician from St Leonards, here we are transported to the land where the coconuts grow, via acoustic guitars, whistles and percussion, described in the sleeve notes as a rollicking shanty from the high seas of N7 which I can’t argue with.

Side four has the young folk duo Josienne Clarke and Ben Walker breathing fresh life into the traditional song ‘The Outlandish Knight’ a song concerning the thwarted attempt of a serial killer. The Diamond Family Archive ’Wren Sailing Girls’ a previously unreleased gem from festival stalwarts Laurence Collyer and Pete Collis, where found sounds, organ, guitars and harmonica combine languidly to great effect.  Responsible for some high quality handmade records, delivered quietly to those in the know over the last few years, from deepest rural Devon.

 Philip G. Martin, AKA Drohne now with a tune off his long deleted ‘Vielle Sauvage’ album from the early nineties, combining ‘All Tomorrow’s Parties’ a well known ballad, collected sometime in the mid- sixties in New York, with his own ‘Schottiche pour Drella’. It is strange amalgam of drones and tin whistles, and is both jaunty and forlorn.  Laura Cannell  ‘Deus Enim’ performed solo on violin, this continues Laura’s fine work on recent Front and Follow albums with one of her songs based on fragments of Hildegard Von Bingham and Guillaume de Machaut.  M. G. Boulter ‘Julie Dies at the End’ another previously unreleased song from Matt, who sings this sad lament and accompanies himself on acoustic guitar, lovely.  Avian Sonic Detritus conclude the album with the ‘Curlew’ 30 seconds worth of the eerie call of a Curlew, which if you have ever heard whilst out walking, is pretty spooky and provides a fitting end to a pretty special record, one I will cherish and play repeatedly throughout the coming years.  (Andrew Young)



(3LP set on Coloured Vinyl from Stoned Karma Records www.stonedkarma.com)

Dusseldorf’s spiritual heirs to the Grateful Dead are back with another marathon live recording, this time documenting their appearance at the Film Museum in their home city earlier this year.

Vibravoid are one of the best live acts around, and there’s plenty on show here that’ll testify to that. Like the aforementioned Dead they’ll also play until someone pulls the plug. However, for many they are viewed as throwbacks too obviously in thrall to an almost mythic age that has grown fondly in the imagination and viewed through rose tinted glasses (probably little round ones).  Yes, those raised on supposedly more rarefied or else bone-crushingly brutal fare can be unfairly sniffy. That’s a shame, really it is.

That said, in some respects they bring it on themselves. Their reliance on copious covers, no matter how well executed (and they usually are), is only likely to reinforce the impression of them as a period tribute act. Here, labyrinthine takes on “the classics” abound – an audacious and extremely decent ’Tomorrow Never Knows’, a seemingly unending ‘In A Gadda Da Vida’ (lose a mark for the drum solo) and a suitably hypnotic ‘Mother Sky/Pushing Too Hard’ are but three examples. Not unsurprisingly, given that much of the set was given over to a Pink Floyd Tribute, there is also strong focus on the Floyd’s spacey Barrett/immediate post Syd period - ‘Astronomy Domine’ and ‘Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun’ for example take up an entire side, Ummagumma style. Add to the tributary mix a stunning ‘Interstellar Overdrive’ and it all risks eclipsing some very fine originals. 

Indeed with so much strong self-penned material one wonder why Vibravoid keep feeling the need to fall back so heavily on interpreting others’ material. Thankfully, ‘Ballspeaker’, ‘Playing With Beuys’ and much else receive the space to  bask gloriously in in the sickly glow of the oil slides and lava lamps and given not just the souped-up Floyd treatment with added power chords but something altogether freakier and just as inspirationally improvised. These alone would be worth the asking price. However coming just twelve months or so after their excellent Loudness For The Masses 6-disc box set of live stuff and radio transmissions covered much the same territory you’d have to question who, apart from those of us indelibly dyed-in-the-wool, will be rushing headlong in for more quite so soon.

No matter. In this, the 50th anniversary of the Summer of Love, you are unlikely to find a more authentically honed sound of ‘67 (adding some nice twists, they really aren’t afraid to flirt with modernity). With so many of the original players either no longer with us or incapable of - or disinclined towards - reproducing their glory years then, let’s face it, this is the closest you are likely to get to a real deal.
(Ian Fraser)



(MVD Audio)

Opening with the whimsical U.S. Indie of Daniel Johnson, sounding like Conor Oberst fronting Pavement, “Casper” is a retro cool tune that sets the tone for this soundtrack, a woozy Cello giving way to a warmly familiar sound that gets you grooving. With fuzzed guitar and attitude, “Daddy Never Understood” showcases the noisier side of nineties Indie as Deluxx Folk Implosion give a brief but violent kicking before (the regular sized) Folk Implosion gets some head nodding hip hop grooves going sounding like a mellow Cypress Hill covering The Beta Band, these three tunes summing up the album in one fell swoop.

    With three more song by Folk Implosion, one from Daniel Johnson, and a brief ditty from Sebodoah side one just flows, with the Implosion's “Natural One” being the pick of the bunch for me.

    Over on side two, the song remains the same as Folk Implosion kill it again on three more excellent, lazy tunes, the beats all stoned summertime and the quality equally high. Joining them, Lo-Down keep the vibes going with the darker hip hop of “Mad Fright Night”, whilst Slint closes everything down with the moody and magnificent “Good Morning Captain” which mixes distorted guitar, beats and spoken word, creating something ragged and glorious, mixing Tom Waits with Beck and making me groove around the kitchen, the track getting darker and noisier as it moves on.

    Whilst this may not be a traditionally Terrascopic soundtrack it is one filled with quality tunes for thoise who enjoy an electronic beat or two.

     On the other hand I suspect practically every Terrascope reader has, at some stage, seen the film and owned the soundtrack to “Easy Rider”, a sixties icon that needs no introduction from me, ten classic tracks from some of the best sixties artists including Steppenwolf, Roger McGuinn, Hendrix and The Electric Prunes.

    With both albums sounding great and pressed on coloured vinyl maybe this is the time to renew an old friend or maybe find a new one. (Simon Lewis)




Way back in '67-'68, The Action recorded a set of demos based on their newly found love of West-Coast psych and all things groovy, they then split up and then reformed as Mighty Baby, although that is another story. Anyway the demos sat in the vaults until the early nineties when they were released as “Rolled Gold” by Reaction Recordings. Forward fast to the present and Californian group Sidewalk Society decide to turn their love of those demos into re-creating those songs, a task undertaken because they feel the tunes merit the effort, a tribute not a slavish copy. All I can say is I am glad they made the decision as this is a wonderful collection that will take you back to the swinging sixties and put a huge cheshire smile on your face.

     As soon as the first chord of “Come Around” sounds it is like walking through a doorway to a rose tinted past filled with sunshine, a wall of harmonies giving the tune a sweetness hard to deny, the production giving the song life and vitality. Perfectly encapsulating the era, “Love Is All” is a perfect moment, a lost Psych pop classic brought to dazzling life, a swirl of enjoyment in which every sound is exactly as you would imagine it.

    Over 14 tracks there is no dip in quality, each song a nugget of happiness with “Strange Roads” sounding like The Small Faces in full flight, “Brain” having some great guitar and a lysergic shimmer, whilst “Look At The View”, the longest tune on the set, adding tinkling piano to the harmonies and chiming guitar, another lost classic finally brought to life. That piano also features on “Little Boy” a moody song with a fine organ sound rolling throughout, the album brought to a close by “Follow Me” and “In My Dream” , the former an energetic groover that gets you stomping and is filled with tension, the latter a summery jangle that lies on the grass smoking a big fat joint, the music washing over you beautifully. Fans of Apple, The Small Faces, The End, Kaleidoscope and The Beatles should all rush out and buy this superb album.

    Compiled by Tony Durant, the man behind Fuschia, “Song” is a seven track stroll through the history of this fine band beginning with “Look At The Sun” a 1967 track recorded with Louise his first recorded band that also included Chris Cutler.  Obviously of its time, the track is a gloriously raucous slice of garage psychelia with plenty of fuzz and effects and swirling vocals. Fans of UK punk may also find themselves humming “Barbie Is Dead” when they hear the opening riff, or maybe that is just me. Moving on “The Band” remind me of The Idle Race in its atmosphere and construction, a lovely little tune that creeps under the skin injecting you with a great big smile the song originally recorded in 1971 just after the first album was released. Talking of which, “The Nothing Song” is an eight minute gem taken from that album and treading the line between Psych and Prog including some odd changes, some great string arrangements and reminding me of East Of Eden at their best.

    Like a fine wine Fuschia then went for a long lie down, returning in 2013 to release “Fuschia II, from Psychedelia to a Distant Place” two tracks from the album included here with “Piper At The Gates Of Time” easily maintaining the feel and quality of the original album, droning strings adding plenty of emotion to the song, the vocals and guitar woven around the string to stunning effect, whilst “Fuschia Song” is a jauntier affair with excellent guitar work and bright production. As it should be the last two offerings are from the yet to be released latest album with the signature sound of violin and driving guitar firmly in place on “Box Of Destiny”, a lyrical nod to the Beatles also to be found, the whole collection rounded off by “Just Another Song” a softly floating slide guitar leading us in to a gentle and melancholy tune that is the perfect finale to another excellent release.

    Finally Anton Barbeau offers three covers and one original on a sixteen minute single, opening with “Heaven Is In Your Mind” (Traffic) introduced by a distorted electronic beat and strings before Anton's distinctive voice takes over, the mood softened by a warm organ tone and acoustic guitars, a delightful end section adding extra loveliness to the song. On his own composition “Secretion of the Wafer” thing get stranger, synths creating an other-worldy atmosphere that is vaguely unsettling and definitely dream-like, especially in the middle section, what the fuck the song about however is anyone's guess, which is a good thing given the music. Originally by Big Star, “September Gurls” is an established classic which , on this version sounds like it was recorded in 1967, the original jangle almost lost in a haze of confusion, a brave mood, make up your own mind but for me there is something missing. Finally we are treated to a distorted and noisy version of “Scary Monsters” (Bowie) that will definitely divide the room but has plenty of ambition and drive, I kinda like it myself.

   Fruit De Mer continue down their idiosyncratic path and do so with style, passion and an ear for the good stuff, hats off again. (Simon Lewis)



[CD from Real Gone Music; LP forthcoming from Munster (Spain)]

Jonson’s debut solo album from 1972 was favourably discussed in Issue 3 (Spring 2013) of British music journal Flashback‘s lengthy feature on “50 Lost Singer-Songwriters” (“a lot more interesting than most of [Vanguard]’s more collector-friendly records…, the oddness makes it an endearing curiosity that fans of loner oddballs will treasure”), while Billboard’s contemporary review (8 July 1972) effulgently praised Jonson’s melodies as “delicate wisps of afterthoughts resting on lyrics deeply introspective and touching”. Forty-five years on, the album has lost none of its charm…or “oddness”. Lovingly prepared for reissue by former Ptolemaic Terrascope editor Pat Thomas, the package is filled with rare photos, a jocular essay by longtime fan, Steve Simels, and several bonus tracks that Thomas rescued from the Vanguard vaults, including “single mixes” of several tracks.

Starting off with arguably the album’s best track, ‘Rainy Dues’ (Flashback labeled it a “soaring pop masterpiece”), Jonson fashions a tender ballad that seems indebted to Dylan’s ‘All I Really Want To Do’ (although Simels hears more of a Springsteen connection] before developing a life of its own with sweeping strings and a mournful French church organ that adds a nostalgic gleam (and tear) to the eye. Jonson’s dancing harpsichord envelops the listener in an almost patriotic glow throughout ‘Mary’, with John Frangipane’s soaring strings contributing to Jonson’s strikingly emotional vocal shrieking, the sound of a man who’s lost the love of his life. (In our interview, Jonson highlights the harpsichords as one of his “favourite moments on the album”.)

The self-taught, multi-talented, multi-instrumentalist Jonson imbues the serene ‘Mother Jane’ with cascading autoharp flickerings, like soft rain on a summer afternoon [another of Jonson’s “favourite moments”), and the short, tearful ‘Autopsy’ is a heartstopping questioning of love and death at too tender an age: “I wonder if they’ll find/all the answers why, my love/oh why my love has died.” [Vanguard President Maynard Solomon sang backing vocals, probably the first and last time he ever sang on one of his labels’ releases! See accompanying interview with Marc for the details.] And then there’s Jonathan Bart’s haunted house organ grinding on the “instrumental”, ‘Munich’, which begs to accompany the Lon Chaney version of Phantom of The Opera, until…, well, you’ll just have to hear it to believe it!

Kudos also to [Mark] Blair Lew, whose melodic bass lines on “Rainy Dues”, “Return to the Relief” and “Fly" add an extra texture of warmth to Jonson’s eclectic arrangements. Jonson called him “our secret weapon on the album.”

True, some listeners may struggle at times with Jonson’s fanciful flights into Buckleyesque screeching and warbling, and several songs do tend towards Buckley’s late-period propensity for heading off in inexplicable directions only to forget to leave musical breadcrumbs for the journey back. But patience will be rewarded, as there are numerous gems hidden inside this Russian doll of an album. The reissue also includes several bonus tracks, including the non-LP single ‘I’m Coming Up To Boston’ that is an inviting clarion call to step inside and experience the musical loop di loops and introspective yearnings of this young talent. Jonson was only 21 at the time.

Link to Marc_Jonson_Feature interview
(Jeff Penczak)


(self-released 10” LP, try Bandcamp)

I’ve known Bobin Jon Michael Eirth, a.k.a. B'eirth and latterly just Bee, for more years than I care to remember. He seems timeless somehow; Bee’s simply forever been there like a long-lost brother, never demanding, eternally extending the hand of friendship, a gentle, caring, visionary soul who always seems rather lost without an instrument in his hands, a canopy of trees overhead and fauns, fauna and fairies at his feet. Bee channels exquisitely spiritual psychedelic folk harmonies through a panoply of instruments, some home-made and several of mediaeval origin, and sings deceptively complex songs of dreams, cats, trees, moonlight and humble dwellings with a voice that’s, rather charmingly, one of the strongest and most musical of any working in the neo-folk field (and I use that term advisedly) today.

The story goes that in the Summer of 2012 Bee spent several months living in a five sided pent tent (or a “dwelling and dreaming domicile” in Bee-speak) in a forest in France, using an “audio capture device” driven by a solar battery charger, to record the Pent Pouch album, which was given away to the 55 people who helped finance the enterprise. Five years later, Bee is releasing the music in five varieties of five sided formats – the version I have to hand being a pentagonal EP. Housed in a woven 5-ply corduroy bag. And why not?

There’s seven songs, rather than five, a mixture of covers (although you’d never know it, unless you know your Yeats’ poetry and Nick Drake lyrics inside out and back to front) and Bee originals, including ‘The Moon is Shining on My Guitar’ which is for me the stand-out - although that too quietly references Robin Williamson’s ‘Sun and Fire and Candlelight’ from ‘By Weary Well’ - all of them accompanied by ambient sounds such as bird-song, crackling wood from the stove and whatever else was to hand; in fact ‘The Half Lumined Path’ simply consists of a collage of field recordings. It’s utterly beautiful, as indeed is all of this little record. A treasure in every sense of the word.
(Phil McMullen)