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Dark Compass

This is another album that arrived as something of a revelation. I go through a lot of music each week. Sometimes a record captures me immediately and other times I have to set it aside and return to it, which was the case here. I love Pink Floyd and I am always searching for something that taps into those same sensibilities. I sensed a hint of that in this release, but I needed to be in the right frame of mind to give it the attention it deserves, and now feels like that moment.
 
First off, let me address the genres I assigned to this release. The band I think describe themselves as something close to global psychedelia, but after listening to this album I came away with a much broader impression. I will get into that more as I go through the individual tracks.
 
The EP opens with "Moon Dive", carried by chilled guitar and subtle percussion. The track creates the sense of staring into a limitless expanse, where everything feels unhurried and suspended. For a brief stretch, time becomes irrelevant as the sound draws you further and further into its calm, distant atmosphere.
 
With "Night Air" some of the world influences begin to surface. There are hints of Africa in the driving beat and in the melody, which at times carries your imagination into something almost dance-like, rhythmic and hypnotic. The track feels alive, as though it is pulling you into its movement rather than simply playing in the background.
 
"Ørken Bloom" carries a strong Americana feel, almost like a cue from a classic spaghetti western. The opening bars in particular seem clearly inspired by Enio Morricones theme for The Good The Bad and the Ugly, setting a vivid scene before the track unfolds. What makes it stand out is the way that familiar style is fused with something far more contemporary, giving the piece both nostalgia and freshness.
 
Taking a 90-degree turn, "Calima" feels almost like a lullaby. It carries my mind through a gentle waltz, conjuring a romantic image, yet there is also a subtle sense of something hidden in plain sight. This elusive undercurrent is hard to define, but it adds a quiet, compelling intrigue to the piece.
 
There is a definite Eastern influence on "Mesa Pt. 1", and interestingly, it also evokes a hint of The Doors. Perhaps it’s the kind of open invitation that makes you imagine Jim Morrison narrating one of his more unconventional, trippy poems.
 
What feels like a natural extension comes next with "Mesa Mesa". Its faster-paced opening soon evolves into something heavier, and at times I detected hints of Daevid Allen and early Gong, while the underlying Americana feel remains ever present.
 
I also have to highlight the live video recording of this EP, featured on <a target="_blank" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nFF17oL8ykY">YouTube</a>. It’s truly terrific and makes me eager to see the band perform in person someday.
 
For me, this EP, and the band as a whole, has been an incredible discovery. I’m always searching for music I can lose myself in with headphones on, and this delivers that transportive experience. For me, it joins the likes of "Dark Side of The Moon" and "Tubular Bells", wordless soundscapes that truly come alive when you submit your attention to them.

Mt. Sava

Ocie Elliott, comprises of Jon Middleton and Sierra Lundy from Victoria, B.C., another band shining a spotlight on Canada and the wealth of incredible talent the country has to offer. This album is their second in 5 years, with the first being "In That Room" back in 2020.
 
I knew the instant "By the Way" started that this was right up my street, acoustic, upbeat, and bright. First came Jon’s vocals, which honestly would have been enough on their own, but when Sierra’s voice joined in, I knew this was something special. Perhaps even up there with The Weepies? Time will tell.
 
Two steps forward and one step back with "Feeling Fine". Not that this step back is a criticism, the previous track moved at an upbeat pace, while this one is slower and more measured, allowing the vocals space to settle and soothe.
 
"Younger Days" opens simply with acoustic guitar, providing a foundation for the storytelling. Jon and Sierra’s vocal styles are quite different but complement each other beautifully. Jon has a coarser tone, reminiscent of the lead singer of Mumford and Sons, while Sierra’s voice is softer, some times breathy, sometimes almost ethereal.
 

"Opening Night" gives Sierra the opportunity to take the lead on a track, and I have to admit, given my penchant for female vocalists, this dynamic works exceptionally well for me. Her voice carries a delicate strength, bringing a fresh perspective to the song and adding a contrast that elevates the interplay between her and Jon. It’s moments like this that highlight the versatility and emotional range of the duo.
 
There definitely seems to be a movement toward including instruments with a “lived-in” feel, highlighting the actual sound of each note. This is evident on "Rockland", where the piano that opens the track occasionally creaks and groans, giving it an intimate, almost live-recorded quality. Sierra takes the lead here, and the track is darker and slower than the previous slower songs. It is emotive, heartfelt, solemn, and undeniably beautiful and definitely my favourite track on the album.
 
The haunting beauty of the previous track gives way to "Wild Rose", a more conventional acoustic offering, but don’t let that sound dismissive. It’s upbeat, inviting, and immediately engaging, serving as another perfect vehicle to showcase the duo’s vocals in all their harmony and charm.
 
It's funny, when "Jobie's Song" started, hearing the piano, my first thought was of Paul McCartney's "Maybe I'm Amazed". While both could may be considered love songs, the latter is more looking back on love, filled with sadness and reflection. 
 
The last track "Petals", is a piano instrumental, both sombre and reflective, but also maybe with a hint of optimism. It runs at just over 2 minutes, but in my head I keep turning it into something much longer, introducing an ever emotive cello, and then more strings and building to.. something. I can't picture it, but it's much bigger. Ah the power of music to inspire and let imaginations soar.
 
I alluded in the opening to maybe discovering Ocie Elliott and them being right up there with The Weepies, and that is most definitely the case. At the same time, they are clearly very different, carving out their own unique identity, distinct sound, musical voice, and signature style. Hopefully it's not another 5 years until the next release.

Bungalow

I can still remember when I first came across Val Emmich’s music. This was back in the days when labels, management, and PR companies sent out physical CDs. I was in the car and grabbed whatever disc was closest, which happened to be Val’s “Little Daggers”. I quickly became completely taken with it, especially the track “Hurt More Later”, which has made several appearances on the podcast.
 
The album opens with "Shame Spiral" and I have to admit my first thought was "what the hell". It is dark and brooding and not the upbeat Val I remember from earlier albums. Given the title it should not be entirely surprising, but it still caught me off guard. There is almost a funeral march feel to the track.
 
The darker tone continues, but things rise a level with "Here Comes The Dark" and its very bass driven rhythm supported by warm strings, or perhaps a synth underpinning everything. It is not a conventional banger, but it has that steady build that peaks with a satisfying dark twist.
 
"Don't Stop" brings back the vocal qualities I remember from Val’s earlier work, though with a touch more angst woven in. As the track builds, those choral vocals return, adding a welcome layer of texture to the song.
 
Things move in a different direction with "Done With The Dishes" and its almost EDM influence, certainly not something I was expecting, but it all comes together once the vocals start. This is not an invitation to the dance floor, but there are definitely heavy accents throughout. The end result, while unexpected, actually works pretty well.
 
With "Got Me Again", the opening immediately reminded me of 80s indie, maybe even the Smiths, but once the vocals enter, it takes a different direction—still 80s, but leaning more toward a synth-driven sound.
 
The album returns to a more traditional, almost acoustic folk sound with "Denial". Musically, it’s reminiscent of Plain White T’s "Delilah", but imagined a few years later—she has given up waiting for him, while he has not given up hoping.
 

Once again, the album shifts vibe with "No Show". The piano feels empty and eerie, while the vocals enhance the dark textures. It has a doom-and-gloom quality, with a subtle build that never quite reaches an awakening, yet there’s something about the track that lingers and makes you want to listen again.
 
The album closes with "Little By Little", a track that blends angst with a glimmer of optimism. Its introspective lyrics and measured pacing leave a lasting impression, offering a sense of resolution while acknowledging the struggles woven throughout the album. It’s a fitting finale that lingers in the mind, balancing melancholy with a quiet hopefulness.
 
For me, this has been an album that isn’t the kind you put on for a singalong. If I had taken the album title at face value, my expectations would probably have been very different. That said, it is an album with many wonderful moments. I have to admit, I’m not a big fan of the opening track, and it’s one I’ll likely skip on future listens. Perhaps it’s just in the wrong position on the album, because the rest of the record offers plenty to enjoy. 
 
Overall, this album is a compelling journey through moods, textures, and emotions. It may not be immediately accessible or designed for casual listening, but for those willing to engage with it, there is a lot to discover and appreciate. Val Emmich has crafted a record that is thoughtful, varied, and full of character, an album that rewards repeated listens and demonstrates his continued growth as a songwriter and artist.

Here Comes the Dark

My journey with Ron Sexsmith began many moons ago. I had heard his name in passing but had never actually listened to his music. That changed when I signed up for the newly launched eMusic service in the early 2000s. Its business model let you download as many albums as you wanted each month, which didn’t last long for obvious reasons. While browsing, I stumbled across Ron Sexsmith and thought, why not? I downloaded "Blue Boy" and "Cobblestone Runway" and played them to death. It also felt fitting that, now living in Canada, I had finally discovered an artist who was creating music right here on his home turf.
 
The next album that truly stood out for me was "Long Player Late Bloomer", which became a constant companion for a good while. Around that time my kids were toddlers and, truth be told, my days of exploring new music were put on pause. Even so, Ron’s music stayed with me through that chapter of life.
 
So here we are in 2025 and, lo and behold, a new release from Mr S. caught my eye. It felt long overdue and it was nice to finally have the chance to review an artist I have been meaning to revisit for far too long.
 
The album opens with "Don't Lose Sight" and immediately restores the sense that he had never been away. That familiar warmth in his voice sets the tone, carrying that unmistakable musical swagger that has always made his work feel like a comforting return. From the first moments, you are welcomed back into his world.
 
Tracks like "Cigarette and Cocktail" and "Damn Well Please" bring a playful energy, each carrying a childlike lightness in their melodies while the lyrics cut in a very different direction. Both songs capture that upbeat, carefree bounce he does so well, with the latter feeling almost like a cheeky response to anyone who ever doubted him.
 
A softer and more reflective side emerges with "Easy For You To Say", where the strings gently colour an already simple and effective tune. That leads into the darker and more atmospheric "Camelot Towers", which unfolds with a Leonard Cohen style weight. It builds tension until his voice enters and anchors one of the album’s strongest moments.
 
The mood then shifts again with the easy sway of "It’s Been A While" and the relaxed charm of "House of Love", which feels like a nostalgic drift through memories of an ideal home or perhaps the artist’s own youth. "Rose Town" follows as a lively, foot tapping highlight that feels ready made for radio.
 
"Please Don’t Tell Me Why" returns to that signature quirk, while "Outside Looking In" leans into a softer interpretation of a seventies vibe, especially through its acoustic guitar work. "Angel On My Shoulder" stands out for the intimacy created by the audible fretwork and the arrival of cello and strings, elevating a track that already feels deeply personal. "When Will the Morning Come" keeps the energy high, while "Burgoyne Woods" brings a distinctly different feel with its punchier strings and narrative focus.
 
The album closes with "Must Be Something Wrong with Her", a finale that fits perfectly within his long tradition of heartfelt and beautifully crafted closing tracks. It wraps the record with clarity and confidence, ending an album that balances lightness, reflection, and emotional depth.
 
For me, Ron Sexsmith stands alongside greats like Leonard Cohen, James Taylor, and even Billy Joel, artists who truly understand the craft of storytelling through song. His music is heartfelt and deeply engaging, and every so often he’ll surprise you with a tune you simply can't shake. He remains, without question, a treasured Canadian gem.

Hangover Terrace

I’ve heard the name The Mountain Goats a lot over the years, though I don’t think I’d ever realised just how extensive and impressive their output was, this being their twenty-third studio album. Going in, I was expecting a folksy, vocal-driven sound, but quickly realised I’d been confusing them, for some reason, with the Fleet Foxes.
 
To me, this feels like a concept album, though the official description puts it this way: "A full-on musical, telling the story of a shipwrecked crew of sixteen men, only three of whom survive a catastrophic storm". There’s no denying it’s a story-driven record, but it reminds me a lot of Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds.
 
The album opens with "Overture" and a pulsing synth that soon gives way to glorious strings. It feels very much like the album setting the scene before leading into a wonderfully simple yet memorable melody, one that reappears later, before transforming into another theme entirely.
 
The simple melody from earlier returns as the driving force for "Fishing Boat", but this time it’s vocally driven rather than instrumental, but wonderfully memorable nonetheless. It carries the narrative of the boat setting out with sixteen souls, only for that number to be tragically reduced to three survivors. The song moves along at quite a clip, yet never feels rushed or forced, and it’s hard to believe that it runs just over five minutes.
 
Like the previous track, "Cold at Night" continues the story at quite a pace, and you’d think this might belie the tragedy beneath. What really helps are the vocals, clear, succinct, and perfectly suited to driving the story forward. This is storytelling at its best.
 
Speed is never at the expense of emotion, as "Dawn of Revelation" clearly shows. The track builds beautifully, beginning in quiet sadness before swelling into palpable angst and, ultimately, unrestrained anger. It feels like a breaking point in the narrative, where emotion overflows and the storm that’s been building finally breaks.
 
While the narration in "Your Bandage" helps to move the story forward, the music itself carries equal weight. About halfway through, the vocals fade and the track becomes almost entirely instrumental, allowing the music to speak on its own. It’s a powerful moment and one that feels reflective and heavy with the emotional aftermath of what’s come before.
 
There’s a softer, slower feel to "Peru", a reflection on life, memory, and the quiet persistence of resilience, perhaps even hope. It was during this track that I found myself trying to place John Darnielle’s vocals, and then it struck me, he reminds me of Al Stewart, best known for his hit “Year of the Cat.” There’s a gentle warmth to his voice, something soft yet deeply comforting, perfectly suited to the reflective tone of the song.
 
This reflective mood continues with "Though This Fire", but here you can sense the optimism beginning to fade, like a flame flickering against the wind, moments before it’s extinguished. There’s a tenderness in the delivery that makes it feel both intimate and inevitable, as though the light is dimming not in defeat, but in quiet acceptance.
 
Maybe I’m misinterpreting "Rocks in My Pockets", but it feels as though the narrator is contemplating an end on their own terms, swimming out to sea, the weight of the rocks ensuring their fate. It’s a deeply sad sentiment, yet the music remains hauntingly beautiful, creating a poignant contrast between despair and grace.
 
There’s no hiding the sheer sorrow in "Armies of the Lord", yet this remains storytelling above all, rather than sentiment piled on. That doesn’t mean the listener can’t empathize and feel the pain of the characters, in fact, it makes it all the more affecting, allowing the story to unfold with clarity and emotional weight.
 
Even more tragedy arrives in "Your Glow", yet it is conveyed with stunning beauty. The music and lyrics are in perfect harmony, each note and word underscoring the emotional weight of the story. And then, just like that, he is left completely alone.
 
That comparison to Al Stewart comes even more to the fore in "The Lady from Shanghai 2". There’s even a hint of what I think is an oboe, adding a curious, almost whimsical layer. It’s an unusual tune, but it brings a welcome texture to the album without ever distracting from the overarching story and sound.
 
The album closes with "Broken to Begin With", and it’s clear that there are no happy endings, a sobering reflection on what future listeners might make of it all. That said, my pedantic side can’t help but wonder: if he didn’t make it, how can he narrate the album? Still, that quibble can easily be set aside in the face of the story’s power and emotional resonance.
 
It’s not often that words fail me, but they did for several days after listening. I think I needed time to let it sink in and to truly cogitate on what I’d heard. In the end, the best way I can sum up this album is: absolutely stunning. Whether you approach it as a pure listening experience or as a deeply personal story, it simply works, and works exceptionally well.

Through This Fire Across from Peter Balkan

I discovered this album by chance and knew I had to review it. Oklou is a singer/songwriter from France, who's forté is experimental electronic pop and before you head for the hills, this is likely not like anything you've heard before, or at least it wasn't for me. 
 
This review covers the deluxe version, which spans 17 tracks over 50 minutes. The original non-deluxe edition, released back in February, included 13 tracks.
 
The album opens with "endless", dark and brooding, but man when those vocals hit, I took things to another level. For me it's almost like the result of Vangelis looking for a vocalist and finding someone quite incredible. 
 
The Vangelis influence is even more apparent in the track that follows, "thank you for recording" which for me is pure perfection. It starts with a beautiful organ/calliope melody and then almost pizzicato vocals, sharp, precise and beautiful. This is one of those tracks, that in my youth I would have found a way to splice into something that spanned the whole length of a C90 cassette, like I did with the intro and break of the Who's "Won't Get Fooled Again". 
 
As the album continues, it delivers track after track of what I can only describe as bottled lightning, a collection that hits the mark with every piece. There are hints of beautiful melodies and exquisite melodic accents throughout. Many tracks are short, yet each still manages to leave a lasting impact.
 
As well as the music and vocals, I definitely think some words on the production are well warranted. I've listened to this album several times, admittedly all while wearing headphones and I think this has been due to the way everything just swirls in your head in a delicate dance. This is definitely an album that you want to escape into and the rewards and payback are infinite.
 
Sometimes it’s difficult to review an album and break it down. While there are certainly standout tracks, which ones resonate will likely be very subjective.
 
As mentioned earlier, my favourite track would have to be "thank you for recording". Beyond that, if I were to distil this album into my own personal EP, it would also include "obvious", which carries a very Clockwork Orange–like, dystopian feel. "choke enough" has that hypnotic repetition I love getting lost in, as does "harvest sky", which features the calliope sound reminiscent of "thank you for recording".
 
I’d also include "viscus", a collaboration with FKA twigs and one of the additional tracks on the deluxe version, and finally "Dance 2", which, given my earlier choices, is probably easy to understand why it made the cut.
 
As mentioned earlier, every track on this album is fantastic, but a few feel like they might have worked better on a different release. Ironically, one of these is "take me by the hand,” which happens to have the most plays on YouTube Music, and the other is "plague dogs", Both are excellent tracks, but taken as part of the album as a whole, I felt they didn’t quite fit with the rest.
 
This album has already been a close companion for some time, and I can see it becoming a go-to record whenever I need to unplug, joining the ranks of albums like "Wish You Were Here" and "Dark Side of the Moon" by Pink Floyd.
 
"thank you for recording". Outstanding.

Choke Enough (Deluxe)

The album presents a fascinating balance between charm and depth, combining melodic, inviting music with lyrics that reveal darker, more complex themes. From the uplifting opening of "Because Your Love is Mine" to the reflective tones of "Known by Heart", the record explores a range of emotions and narratives, always carried by a voice that is both sweet and disarming.
 
"Hey La" stands out for its clever juxtaposition of a beautiful melody with lyrics tinged with narcissism and hollow praise, while "Mona Lisa" captivates by evoking thoughts on one of history’s most famous paintings in a way that is both contemplative and wry. I have to admit I never quite understood what all the fuss was about it. The album also plays with tempo and style, from the slightly upbeat "Skin of Our Teeth" with hints of early Squeeze, to the waltz-like "Rose and Thorn" and the indie rock/pop energy of "Let’s Go".
 
Darker undercurrents emerge in tracks like "Bully" and "Selkie Woman" where sweet melodies contrast with themes of bullying, disguise, and hidden sadness. The closing track, “Winter Strangler,” delivers an intriguingly ambiguous finale, blending a 70s summer vibe reminiscent of ABBA and Brotherhood of Man with lyrics depicting Mother Nature’s relentless march to extinguish the warmth.
 
Overall, the album is compelling because it feels both accessible and layered. Its melodies are inviting and sometimes comforting, yet the lyrics reward close attention, revealing cutting observations, subtle intricacies, and emotional depth that make repeated listens richly rewarding.

Unpopular Music

I listen to hundreds of artists each month. Some require a bit of digging to see if they’re the right fit for Indie Launchpad. Others, though, grab me instantly, like a sailor caught in the pull of a siren’s song. Fortunately, in this case, there are no rocks ahead. The siren in question is Lydia Luce, and I should probably apologise for the metaphor, she clearly has no malicious intent, only a desire I'm sure to share her stories and her voice.
 
The album opens with the title track, "Mammoth", and as I mentioned, I immediately knew a review was in order. The music is deceptively simple, every note and chord feels deliberate, creating a foundation that allows the vocals to truly shine. The double-tracked/reverb vocals are particularly striking, occasionally reminding me of Deb Talan, with their warmth and subtle layers adding depth to each line. From the very first listen, there’s a sense that this is an artist who knows how to convey emotion without unnecessary complexity, drawing you in with both precision and feeling.
 
The next track, "Belly", felt more conventional in structure, with the double-tracking/reverb largely absent. This restraint allowed Lydia’s voice to truly come into its own, clear, distinct, and beautifully expressive. Without the layers, her tone and nuance take centre stage, revealing a warmth and intimacy that draws the listener in and makes the performance feel both personal and effortless.
 
One of my favourite tracks is probably "Deep End". Slow, deliberate, and beautifully understated, it unfolds with a simplicity that feels intentional and thoughtful. Underpinned by a very low key organ and then the addition of evocative strings elevates the track even further, adding subtle layers of emotion that linger long after the music stops.
 
I loved "Ephemeral", particularly its clever wordplay and the beautiful counter-melody. The additional vocalist provides a nice contrast that enriches the track. When it hits, it brought to mind "My Eyes" from the "Doctor Horrible’s Sing-Along-Blog" soundtrack. At first glance, listeners might argue that the two songs sound nothing alike, but beneath the surface, the comparison feels surprisingly apt, the interplay of voices and the emotional nuance in both tracks resonate in a similar way.
 
Florence is a delicate track that carries no sense of urgency, content to unfold calmly and effortlessly. This relaxed pacing allows Lydia’s voice to guide the listener on a gentle journey, each note and phrase another step along the way.
 
Similarly "Mama Love" continues that same feel and flow. As I was listening thoughts of another artist came to mind. More a hint than a direct comparison, but I couldn't get K.D. Lang out of my head.
 
"Quiet" is a simple song, with a interesting fuzz sound underneath. When the strings coming though, I found myself thinking about Frank and Nancy singing "Something Stupid". 
 
I love the delightfully simple acoustic guitar on "Wisteria" which carries this song along. Bright and breezy and like the lyrics say "anything is possible" and that's the positive energy that emanates with every word upon Lydia's lips. I have to say though there's something strange hearing the word wisteria constantly. It's just one of those words I think.
 
Another simple guitar-led track, "The Wharf" features a subtle touch of slide guitar that adds a distinctive texture and character. That gentle accent gives the song a warm, almost embracing quality, setting it apart from the rest and giving it a unique charm of its own. 
 
"Making Amends" was a song that didn't click with me. I can't put my finger on why. It has a delightful melody, strings, moody electric piano, but something felt off, maybe it was just the overall mood. Don't get me wrong, it's a nice song, but maybe for me, it just didn't fit with the rest, or maybe it was just in the wrong position on the album. 
 
Shifting away from the moody tone, we return to something a little more upbeat with "Walking Song". Once again, a second vocalist adds contrast and texture, bringing a fresh dynamic to the track. There’s something about their interplay, perhaps the other vocalist had a hand in writing it, that evokes subtle echoes again of "Something Stupid", giving the song a familiar yet charming twist.
 
The final track, "Signet", leans toward the slow and reflective side, carrying a quiet charm enhanced by gentle birdsong and subtle atmospheric sounds. It’s driven by sparse guitar and delicate strings, creating a beautifully minimal backdrop. When the vocals finally emerge, they’re soft, wordless, and almost dreamlike, more an instrument than a voice. A truly lovely piece, and a fitting close to an outstanding album.

Mammoth

From the moment I began listening to this album, one thing was immediately clear it carries a deeply spiritual quality. I’m not a religious person, but I’ve always appreciated the richness of different beliefs and cultures. Some artists manage to channel something profound through their music, something that resonates on a deeper level. George Harrison comes to mind, not during his Beatles years, but in the period when he truly came into his own as a solo artist. Even Leonard Cohen captured that same essence, sometimes buried deep beneath the surface, and other times shining unmistakably through, especially in his final album.
 
That being said, I don’t want to put off anyone who might read this and think, "Yeah, I’ll pass". If you do, you’ll be missing out on something truly special. There’s no need to believe in anything or search for hidden meaning, you just have to listen, feel, and experience it. And I hope, above all, that you enjoy it.
 
I thought this was Nicks' only other album, aside from Part 1 (which somehow passed me by), but it turns out he was a member of "Portico Quartet", a Mercury nominated band. His first solo release actually dates back to 2014. Anyway I digress.
 
The album opens with "Every Open Heart", beginning with what I believe is a harmonium accompanied by subtle vocal accents. Soon the guitar enters, with a distinctly Spanish flavour, and the song comes alive. After the first verse, the lyrics transition into Sanskrit, delivering a philosophical passage from Hindu scriptures that feels almost like a mantra. Translated, it reads something like:
 
<quote>"Lead me from illusion to reality 
Lead me from ignorance) to knowledge 
Lead me from death to immortality"</quote>
 
And it weaves effortlessly into the song, much like some of George Harrison’s work. There’s an undeniable sense of optimism, yet it remains grounded in something deeper. There’s even a synth solo, which might sound out of place on paper, but in the track, it just works beautifully.
 
The Spanish-influenced guitars continue into the next track, "For Real", which feels almost like a continuation of the previous song, yet with its own distinct signature. Around the halfway point, a guitar break emerges, and when the vocals return, they carry added depth and an almost hypnotic quality.
 
With "East of Eden", my first thought was of the James Dean movie, probably an age thing. The tempo slows here, resulting in a much more subdued and introspective track. It might sound silly, but it almost feels like an embrace, a comforting hug. The ethereal accompaniment only deepens this sense of atmosphere.
 
There’s no denying the more overtly religious overtones of "Supernatural Healing". The younger me might have instantly dismissed it for its frequent use of "Jesus" and "Lord" but sometimes you need to step back from dissecting every detail and appreciate the bigger picture. And there’s no denying, once again, this is a great track.
 
Sometimes a track doesn’t need much analysis, as is the case with "I Want To See You." Running just under two minutes, it essentially functions as a mantra, or a prayer, repeated several times. The message is simple, yet delivered with remarkable beauty.
 
"Wild Atlantic Way" is another track that starts simply but soon evolves into a real foot-tapper. The Irish influence is clear, not just in the instrumentation, but also in the place names mentioned throughout. There are a couple of standout solos as well, first a whistle, then a violin, each adding their own charm to the track.
 
I don’t think we need to dwell too much on the sentiment behind "Amen". There’s no denying it’s a great track, and trying to dissect it would likely only spoil the experience. Both musically and lyrically, it simply works, beautifully.
 
Track 8 pauses for a musical interlude, an instrumental called "Instrumental 2 (Cambridge)". Immediately, thoughts of the great Nick Drake came to mind. I’m not sure what it was, the simplicity of the guitar, the gentle humming, or perhaps something deeper, but the resemblance lingered nonetheless.
 
There’s a simple, understated beauty in "Handing It Over." The lyrics are moving, perfectly complemented by the guiding piano and the guitar, which adds subtle depth. The vocals are especially effective, particularly when layered over one another, creating a rich, immersive texture.
 
The album closes with "Find Me". Another seemingly simple track, though "simple" hardly does it justice. It begins understated but gradually builds, leaving the album on an uplifting note rather than a reflective, downbeat one.
 
I approached this album thinking of it as more spiritual than religious, though I admit my perspective may have shifted somewhat. That aside, the album is beautiful, uplifting, and at times powerful. Some listeners might hear elements that make them uncomfortable or prompt them to move on, but I would encourage giving the album a full listen before making a judgement. For me, this is an exceptional work, one that will certainly not be a stranger to my ears.

Dark Harvest, Pt. 2

On hearing the first few notes of "Abyss of the Soul", I immediately thought of David Miles' Children and its purposeful piano intro. Yet this track is far more vocally driven, soft, calming, almost ethereal. Then the beat drops. I’ve never been much for dance music, my clubbing days are long behind me, but every so often, a track comes along that truly grabs me. This one didn’t just grab me, it seized me by the lapels and gave me a good shake. And even then, the best was still to come.
 
I think everyone knows the expression "like a deer in the headlights", and that’s exactly how I felt when “Everyday Life” began. The beat is incessant, throbbing, purposeful. No exaggeration, I felt myself freeze, almost unable to move, completely absorbed in the unfolding music. Some might hear cacophony, some noise, but to others, myself included, it feels like a strange kind of meditation. It’s not relentless, there are moments of calm, but they are just that, brief respites before the madness returns.
 
The vocals return on “Ethereal Resilience”, but they serve as accents rather than narrative. The track leans more into EDM influences, yet it’s much calmer than the previous one. Still, the synth riff and thumping beat are undeniable, making me yearn to be in a club, feeling that thumping beat, rise from the floor, through my feet and explode in my chest.
 
Once again, things are softer with "Euphoria Rising". All the elements are still present, but the track feels more laid-back. Even when the bass drops, it’s never overwhelming, which is probably a good thing. Later, the sparse vocals ride over a chord progression that had me racking my brain, trying to place where I’d heard it before. I’m fairly certain it’s something entirely unrelated, a TV theme, a commercial, but it definitely evokes that feeling of musical déjà vu.
 
For me, the final track, "Where Feelings Grow", is the weakest of the 6 tracks. It almost feels like, "Hey, we need something radio-friendly" and this is the result. It’s not a bad track by any means, but it doesn’t quite reach the heights of the earlier songs. That said, the synth later in the track is fantastic, especially on headphones.
 
Some might ask, "What’s the point of EDM if you’re not dancing?" And most of the time, I’d nod in agreement. But occasionally, something surfaces that drags you under, like this, letting you sink willingly into its waves of sound, an endless, intoxicating tide that drowns out everything else, if only for a little while.

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