Kathleen Edwards does not remember her previous concert stop off in Halifax with much warmth. Such is the feelgood happiness in the room tonight though, she is prepared to recall the now, thanks to passing time, amusing story for this audience. It was back around 2012 and was easily one of the weirdest weeks of her life. It turns out that before the show Kathleen had got stung by a wasp and all hell broke loose. The singer actually ended up in ER with a full body issue. “The stocks of camomile lotion rocketed that week because of me,” she jokes. By the time they all got to Halifax for the gig she was so messed up by the mix of Benadryl and steroids, due to the reaction to the sting, that the punch-drunk performer ripped her guitar off in the middle of the show and somehow managed to smash herself in the head. This resulted in a goose egg and a concussion which stayed with the stricken songwriter for the remainder of that tour.
The anecdote is arguably a good metaphor for the way the life of a working musician was beating Kathleen around at the time, leaving its scars and taking its toll. She sings as much in tonight’s wistful rendition of ‘Glenfern,’ extended to incorporate a heartfelt hello to the large audience, but this is a bad indictment on the modern-day mess of her industry that it preceded a period when Edwards walked away from music altogether to go and run a coffee shop. In my opinion, an artist of her calibre and repute should have been appropriately rewarded for her work, enjoying protection from the pressures and stresses of simply maintaining a career and carrying on. That struggle does permeate the music she has produced since stepping back into the ring with 2020’s ‘Total Freedom.’ Launching ‘Save Your Soul’ from last years ‘Billionaire’ album, there is more than a hint of foreboding at those going after fools’ gold with its cautionary refrain “who’s gonna save your soul when your money’s no good?” From the same album we are treated to ‘Say Goodbye, Tell No One’ – already one of the all-time great turning away songs – as the sight and sound of Kathleen brandishing an electric guitar in a full band show and nailing every number feels like a real privilege. Acts this good should be packing out stadiums (regrettably acts nowhere near as classy as this frequently do fill stadiums) and yet here we are in a cool Canadian arts theatre with a singer songwriter in the classic Tom Petty, Lucinda Williams mould taking full advantage of a deep, rich back catalogue and appearing to be as elevated by the experience as we are.
It does feel like all in attendance have chanced upon the secret place where the good stuff is happening. Earlier in the day we had wandered the streets of Halifax, soaking up a city that was absolutely heaving with holiday weekend entertainment from buskers to amusements then later fireworks that sounded like a war zone. Kathleen tells us she had checked out the local area too, enjoying her dream breakfast at ‘Steve-O-Reno’s’ and inviting the owner, who registers her presence with a shout out, to the gig tonight. It is a nice, empathetic touch from someone who put heart and soul into running her own coffee business and the song she dedicates to her guest, ‘Asking For Flowers,’ is a similarly switched on lament. The country ballad template of the tune allows space for the key line to really register. “Asking for flowers is like asking you to be nice” hits so hard because it feels like it is sourced from a real place, a low hanging piece of raw emotion that had to be picked. Her impressive range too is illustrated when playing a violin solo on the brooding ‘Goodnight California’, but such is Kathleen’s connection to this line up, she is happy to let the number fully hit the heights with the entire bands combined energy and telepathy, especially the Crazy Horse-like guitar soloing.
This band can rock out with force as well, the delicious riffing on last years ‘When The Truth Comes Out’ earning guitarist Gordon Tough a shout out and when reaching back to some of the oldest tunes in her catalogue, like on ‘Back To Me,’ the same stimulating energy pumps us into the present moment, showing how the craft in Kathleen’s writing has been of a higher stripe right from the outset. She is in a real sharing mood tonight too, we learn, for example, that the seed of ‘Little Red Ranger’ was Kathleen trying to manifest a vision of the song she can imagine singing when finally treading the boards at Massey Hall, but most tellingly the generosity is evident between the players on stage as scintillating keyboard and pedal steel solos own their place in the spotlight. Pounding keys provide the pulse of momentum as the set peaks through ‘Change The Sheets’ followed by ‘Six O’Clock News’ which mines the electric wild mercury sound, forever hot currency when tapped into like this. To finish things off the encore is the decisive one-two punch of early classic ‘Mercury’ followed by a lilting cover of Neil Young’s ‘Powderfinger,’ the extended soloing of which only served to underline the quality in the playing of the whole group. This was just one of those rare nights when everything, from performer to group to location to sound to feeling to response, came together so incredibly well. Memorable.
The name Wayne Rooney might not be one that readers of the music press, or musical criticism and appreciation in general, regularly associate with this particular field of the arts. For those who do not know him (I am aware that there are many readers of this site in the US and Canada so you will be many) he is a former professional footballer who became famous in the early 2000’s as a dynamic and rare young talent playing for Everton but soon enough Manchester United and England. His peak playing years were rightly celebrated for their domestic success laden, bullish attacking flare in a way that his subsequent moves into management have not been. Wayne Rooney does not come across as an especially confident or engaging communicator, whether this was too much of an obstacle to overcome in club management I cannot really say, but given that some of his managerial positions ended in the early termination of contracts it is a fairly safe guess that this was not an asset. All of which makes, for me, his current regular sports broadcaster employment a surprising appointment to put it politely (as a disclaimer I should probably add I am an Arsenal supporter so writing nice things about ex-Man Utd player Rooney does not come naturally). Often when a piece of analysis is thrown Wayne’s way, he seems diffident, over repetitive and a million miles removed from the bolshy footballing bulldog we used to see on the playing field. However, there was one piece of commentary of his during the half time of the recent World Cup Final that, I honestly believe, summed up the thoughts of millions.
The half time show at the Final was a disgrace really, such a pointless spectacle of absolutely no musical or entertainment merit whatsoever, that it is hard to believe it was desired by anyone other than Americans who have no real interest in football and the under-fire Fifa president Gianni Infantino. He had already got on the wrong side of football fans the world over by introducing hydration breaks, splitting the game into quarters for what it quickly became obvious was just advertising opportunities in disguise for US broadcasters. But his messing with half-time breaks, which should take a maximum of fifteen minutes, any longer and the players are going to have to warm up again, was a liberty too far for the majority. Pre-armed with a series of transparently untrue denial statements about the length of the time slot, the musical showpiece prevented the game from restarting for 27 minutes. At its conclusion on BBC TV, where Wayne Rooney was one of the analysists, the presenter asked all three of the experts for their reaction to the entertainment, receiving two generic pieces of half-hearted praise before turning to Wayne. “I thought it was crap.” His candour caused a bit of nervous laughing, but he brilliantly doubled down. “I’m sorry I just did. I like some of those artists but really, that was just crap.”
To be fair Wayne was probably mostly frustrated on behalf of the players and the true fans at the delay, by his own admission he was just there to see football. But this does not change the fact that the spectacle was just a load of bilge. Madonna’s opening segment was either pre-recorded or mimed or both; I hate to sound like a dinosaur, but I cannot accept choreographed dance routines built around sets and props with the music mostly, if not wholly, on tape as live performance. It is a visual feat but so what? There was way too much generic global EDM sounds and beats, indistinct and of no great distinction, and an acoustic solo piece by Justin Bieber which, live or no, sounded like nothing more than a toddler mumbling into his bedroom carpet after picking up a guitar for the first time and half figuring out a couple of easy chords. There is so much genuinely great music and talent out there, which this site shines a light on every week, that it annoys me how little it is tapped into at times like this. I mean if you must have music at least present something good, this was so lightweight that even musical co-ordinator Chris Martin decided not to pack his bouncy trainers and keep a low profile.
The other thing is it serves no purpose, the only people a mishmash of a presentation like this is trying to reach are those who have no real interest in the sport, who need a bit of variety and celebrity allure as insurance that this event is worth being seen at. But do any football fans, or the game itself, actually need Hollywood actors and big-name rappers having the TV cameras pick them out of a crowd looking bored on their phones, asking their escorts what is happening? To the best of my knowledge, football is already a phenomenally popular sport and the last thing it needs is unrelated entertainment or showbusiness add-ons to broaden its appeal. The supporters absolutely do not need it, and a World Cup Final is going to sell out, as would an entire World Cup if not priced so prohibitively, with nothing more than the football itself on the menu. If Infantino does not survive his current controversy I would love it if, next time the tournament runs in four years, it adopts a back to basic approach. No decoration, no filler, no tenuous thrills and spectacle. Just two teams walking out, lining up to sing their national anthems then immediately getting down to the playing of a ninety-minute game of football. Can you imagine what a deliciously simple and pure experience that would provide? Football is a game that, when boiled down to its core appeal, is both beautifully simple to follow and frequently beautiful to watch. That is all you need.
This is a record made by a duo who were raised, schooled, and immersed in the folk tradition but who wish to reach for something far away from that world sonically. In fact, they are looking at the whole other realm of FM radio with a sound that heavily references Buckingham and Nicks, the foundation of Fleetwood Mac’s gear change from blues purists to the dramatic pop sheen of their most celebrated era. There might just be something similar happening here, although the Sullivan siblings have not specifically grown a reputation within the folk world, if you listen close enough you can definitely detect the background embedded into the harmony rich, melodically memorable core of their songs. Take the opening track, which was also the lead single ‘Down On Love,’ the voices switch verses and take a chorus each as the song bounces along like the theme tune to a 70s sitcom, electric guitar fills adding to a mix that presents like a very polished pop brew. But hidden behind the modern production is a song that could exist very agreeably as an acoustic number, the drama belonging in the character driven approach of the leading male and female voices. Those vocals unite very well on the title track too, switching between long held falsetto backing notes and the semi spoken recitals of Sam whilst guitar lines send jolts of electricity through the mixing board.
So, who are the pair making these sounds? Well, Sam and Louise Sullivan’s story reads like a long, looping folk song beginning on an old farm school along the Tualatin River in Oregon, where the brother and sister first learned the American and British traditional tunes that informed their musical instincts. After moving to New York in 2001 Sam fell hard for the mandolin and the finger‑twisting guitar of Reverend Gary Davis, while Louise immersed herself in Manhattan’s Irish sessions and sang with the Young People’s Chorus of New York. As a family band they played everywhere from Carnegie Hall to sea‑shanty gatherings at the South Street Seaport, all while enduring the kind of formative, slightly chaotic road trips (Elvis and Woody Guthrie pilgrimages, contra dances, old‑time festivals) that tend to fuse siblings into lifelong collaborators. College brought literature and visual arts, Philadelphia brought ceramics for Louise and high‑school teaching for Sam, and eventually songwriting arrived as a natural extension of their creative lives together. What began as home recordings made on a USB mic between loads of laundry grew into a fully-fledged band once they met Kevin Basko and Emily Moales, who nudged them toward amplifiers, reel‑to‑reel tape, and a looser, more immediate way of capturing performances. Their records ‘Papier Mâché,’ ‘Sweet Enough,’ and now ‘Love And Devotion’ balance arena‑sized pop ambitions with the trad DNA they cannot shake: the ballads, the ’70s harmonies, the blood‑born blend that echoes the folk‑inspired ceramics of their mother and the offbeat Americana chronicled by their father. Even as they lean into digital textures, that sweet old‑time feeling remains stitched into every song as this album unfolds.
Continuing with ‘There You Go Again,’ dreamed into existence in those bedazzled half-asleep, half-awake moments, gliding on a breath of a repeated backing refrain and a corrugated guitar figure that holds it all together, the otherness of the sound double accentuated by a shift at the close not unlike a tape changing speed. ‘Ms Mercedes’ is a deceptively simple sounding character study and yet, the easy on the ear portrait manages to throw everything but the kitchen sink into the production and arrangement without ever overcrowding the space. ‘Since I Left’ is a harmony rich back porch banjo ballad fed through an electric folk power blender while ‘Doing Time’ has a kind of resigned exhale that suits the reflective nature of the lyrics perfectly. It finishes with a solo that has an unexpected bagpipe texture overcoating the guitars too. ‘My Guy’ arrives with seconds of hazy backwards tape effect that re-appear later, alongside other rapid dream state audio sensations, in an otherwise straight-shooting song where psychedelics are applied liberally, tastefully but far from overplayed. ‘After All These Years’ has the thrust and appealing verse resolve then chorus eruption of a hit record. ‘Irish Goodbye’ is an emotive ballad of letting go before we close on ‘Treehugger,’ a pop-rock song pulsating with an electro heart and clearly pointing to further sonic and stylistic evolutions for this duo. They are surely going places, the rich offerings of craft, ideas, and execution to be heard here alone convince me of that. ‘Love And Devotion’ may not beat you over the head with its quality, but it will subtly entice you in and then lay you out deliciously song by song. Excellent album.
This is a mesmerising live rendition of the song that opens Margarets latest ‘I Am Both’ album, an arresting piece of folk‑leaning indie‑rock that clearly sets the emotional terms of the whole record. Drawn from a real visit to the Midwest, the song reframes that trip as a post‑breakup flight from New York’s intensity, a familiar fantasy for city dwellers seeking space to breathe. Glaspy’s direct vocals and pared‑back guitar work give the track its charge, forming a narrative where the geography becomes less the focus as the impulse to step away and recalibrate rises to the top. As an entry point to the record, it signals an album built on impressionistic detail and precise emotional stakes. You can order the album via this link: https://link.amazon/B00kz7ZMG
Wills Van Doorn – Aero
This track is one of the clearest demonstrations of Wills Van Doorn’s leap forward on ‘Enduro,’ a record that pushes his classicist power‑pop instincts to the fore with confidence. Still early in his career and unburdened by repetition, Van Doorn channels bright hooks, meticulous songcraft and a streak of spontaneity honed in Portland’s DIY scene. Produced in a whirlwind weekend with Johnny Payne and Beach House’s James Barone, ‘Aero’ soars with sensuous, Harrison‑esque guitar washes, octave‑vaulting verses and an elevating chorus; proof that his influences are not mere borrowed reference points but actually raw material forming something distinctly his own. You can get the album via the record labels website here: https://enigmaticbrunchrecords.bandcamp.com/
Lim Orion – Story
‘Story’ opens forthcoming album ‘ILK’ by placing Lim Orion, London‑based multidisciplinary artist Cara Sebastian, squarely inside the album’s central concern: reclaiming her voice through cathartic storytelling. Written during lockdown and amid emotionally fraught love, the track captures the suspended moment between indecision and hope, where distraction becomes a coping mechanism. Recorded live with her band, ‘Story’ layers blues‑tinged call‑and‑response vocals, swampy guitar hooks and organ lines that shift from dissatisfaction toward a bright, unruly release. It is a thematic and sonic overture for ‘ILK,’ a record built as a transportive vessel for finding freedom through narrative. You can find the song and more about the album via this link: https://limorion.bandcamp.com/track/story-3
Luluc – Rewarding Melody
This track features on ‘Sweet Relief,’ Luluc’s fifth album and one of their most harmony‑rich releases to date. Written in the quiet spaces Zoë Randell retreats to and later shaped in the Brooklyn studio the duo built over the past decade, the song reflects the album’s central tension of modern life’s shiny surface set against its exploitation and existential pull. Begun on Christmas morning at J Mascis’s home, the album explores love, hate, beauty and distraction with Luluc’s trademark sensitivity. ‘Rewarding Melody’ distils that approach into a song that is understated, meditative and immediately affecting. You can get the album via this link: https://luluc.bandcamp.com/album/sweet-thief
Slow Accordion – ’71
This track is a standout moment on Slow Accordion’s fully improvised, analog‑recorded debut, an avant‑country funk excursion born from four Nashville‑based musicians creating in real time. The quartet of Oliver Wood, Matt Glassmeyer, Ted Pecchio and Mark Raudabaugh entered Glassmeyer’s home studio with no concepts beyond collective spontaneity, tracking live in a circle to four‑track reel‑to‑reel. Across the album, tone and energy collide with deference and space, and ‘’71’ captures that chemistry at its most hard‑grooving and exploratory. This is a vivid example of the band’s ethos of comjuring music on the spot, pushed and pulled into shape by instinct. You can get the self titled album this way: https://meadownoise.bandcamp.com/
Baby Rose – Let Me Go
‘Let Me Go’ finds Baby Rose (D.C.-bred, North Carolina–raised, now Atlanta‑based) leaning fully into the lived‑in, timeless tone that has made her contralto one of the most striking voices in modern soul. The track, from her forthcoming album ‘Yearnalism,’ channels the album’s core theme of yearning through a confession of sorrow, release, and the hope of parting without collapse. Sonically, it reaches back toward Muscle Shoals–era spirit while carrying her signature blend of soul, jazz, gospel, rock, and R&B, delivered with cinematic intimacy. It is a stirring statement from an artist long informed by deep musical roots and a bold focus. You can find out more this way: https://babyrose.bandcamp.com/
Welcome to Volume Ten in our mix show series of new music, latest release and soon-to-land gems, collectively known as Fresh Juice. This one takes in a mouth watering collection of up and coming sounds including Garage Rock, Soul, Heavy Psych, Power Pop, Indie Rock, Americana, Dark Folk, Folk, Jazz Rock and beyond so, as always, dig in and dig out. Full tracklisting below.
Tracks – Fruit Tree Records – Fresh Juice 2026 Vol. 10
It might raise a few eyebrows if I were to describe making an out-and-out power pop album a brave move, in doing so creating a sit up and take notice statement release, but I believe this to be both and I am happy to make that call. The truth about writing and recording great pop songs in the classicist’s mould, is that it is actually a tough undertaking to get right but when someone does, the end results sound effortless. Taking the trouble to structure chord patterns that stimulate the senses to feel an emotion, then growing a melodic pattern that pulls a listener in and holds them there before finally icing the cake with lyrics that speak in easily understood, poetically inclined thoughts is a craft that needs a degree of talent to effectively realise. The other thing that relatively new artists, which Van Doorn still counts as, can enjoy is that they often have a lot of low hanging fruit in the ideas chamber of their mind. The simplest yet often most immediately memorable song ideas present themselves without inhibition to artists like Wills, who is still at the exciting early phase of his career where he can find a natural and honest sound without inhibition, free from the fear that he might be repeating his own previous work.
And so it is that we now find Wills Van Doorn really making some big music noise with ‘Enduro,’ ironic when you consider how quietly he has been carving out his own corner of Portland’s power‑pop underground. Wills building blocks were a handful of early home‑recorded releases which are now hitting full bloom with the fully fledged melodic craft on display in ‘Enduro.’ A multi‑instrumentalist with a fondness for bright hooks and tightly wired arrangements, Van Doorn first surfaced with the 2020 EP ‘Run With You,’ a lo‑fi glimpse of the tuneful instincts he is now sharpening and evolving today with this bold new album. Over the past six years Wills has embedded himself further into the city’s DIY ecosystem, writing and refining the songs that would become his debut album, all while developing a reputation for meticulous preparation in the studio. That discipline meets a streak of spontaneity on the new record which was produced in a whirlwind weekend by Johnny Payne and powered by the rhythmic drive of Beach House drummer James Barone. The album captures Van Doorn heading off down a new highway, one where his classicist pop sensibilities, the Big Star pop punch, the Lemon Twigs‑ish theatricality, all lock into place with a confident sense of momentum.
That assuredness can be seen in spades with a song like ‘Aero,’ which glides into view like a cloud raining sensuous George Harrison guitar washes over everything in sight; that it also has octave leaping verses and a heavenly chorus is almost incidental, a case of if the sound does not floor you then the song itself surely will. The title track enters with the jangle of Wills electric guitar, after which an off-mic count in launches the maximum, both juicy and chunky, guitar riffs with a bang and our lead vocalist sets in motion a journey into song. The classic sixties and seventies pop reference points pile up, ‘Ever Wonder Why’ ticks off subliminal ELO style textures, a suggestion but not overcooked helping of Beach Boys type backing vocals and a guitar solo that has so much trebly bite it might just blow your speakers. But my main point is that taking these incredible influences is all well and good, but it is what Wills is doing with them that makes the difference, he is making great sounding songs that are entirely his. And it is with these standard measures that the ten-track album plays on, refusing to sing with a solo voice when a harmonious, multi-voiced serenade will propel you to the ninety-ninth floor, steadfastly resisting to reprise a verse if a dreamily middle eight can open up another dimension but equally holding back when a pared down electric piano and vocal introduction (‘Wake Up’) is already hitting the spot without over decoration. But then that same song, clocking in at under three minutes, walks into another space aglow with a fruity organ break and slam-dunking fuzz guitar solo. This simultaneously complex yet oh-so simple pleasure of an album does so much in half an hour, it gets in and gets out grinning atop the enviable job satisfaction of delivering a power pop album par-excellence!
‘Carolina Rain’ bursts forth as a vivid first glimpse of ‘Hope Is The Thing With Feathers,’ Rhiannon Giddens’ seventh studio album arriving 18th September on Nonesuch Records. Tracked live at The Cypress House in Breaux Bridge, Louisiana, complete with foot-stomps, room noise and the easy chatter of musicians who’ve shared decades together, the song finds Giddens soaring over plucked banjo and nimble fiddle in a sharp, clear-eyed tale of love and money. Surrounded by her cross-continental ensemble of longtime collaborators and family, this song distills the album’s spirit of community, lineage and unvarnished creation, announcing a new chapter rooted in the places and people that made Rhiannon the wonderful artist she is today. You can pre-order the album via this link: https://amzn.to/4whMtqG
Andrew Sa – Lavender Cowboy
As previously flagged up in my review of the superb ‘American Rough’ album, this stand out track folds queer lineage, aching balladry and vintage Americana into a work that is assuredly forward-looking. Rooted in the storytelling traditions of Patsy Cline and Webb Pierce yet unafraid to confront the genre’s long history of exclusion, Sa turns his tribute to Patrick Haggerty and Lavender Country into a sweeping, pedal‑steel‑lit anthem of yearning and reclamation. His buoyant‑yet‑fragile vocal delivery, informed by a lifetime of influences from Reba to Rufus Wainwright, makes the song feel like both a love letter and a challenge. This is a cinematic, emotionally charged introduction to an artist pushing country into a more honest, inclusive era. You can order a copy of the album here: https://amzn.to/4vEkcJw
Pharis And Jason Romero – Last Call
This glorious track is one of the most stirring moments on Pharis and Jason Romero’s seventh album, a swamp‑thick, mud‑warm banjo groove that feels as if it’s rising straight out of the Horsefly earth beneath their riverside barn. Driven by that irresistible bass‑and‑fiddle momentum, the song tumbles forward with a kind of emotional gravity, grasping for something slipping just out of reach. Pharis delivers a masterclass in exuberance and longing as she leans into the refrain “last call for old times, last call for you, last call for company I know you feel it too,” her voice riding the song’s downhill rush with both ache and abandon. The song stands as a snapshot of the Romeros’ lived‑in sound: warm, rooted, and brimming with the small revelations that define their world. You can order a copy of the album via this link: https://amzn.to/4wPI1iu
Ed O’Brien – Teachers
This track was a clear entry point into the wider context of Ed O’Brien’s 2026 album ‘Blue Morpho,’ a project marking a decisive shift in how the longtime Radiohead guitarist presents his work. Released via Transgressive and credited directly to O’Brien rather than the former EOB moniker, the album reflects several years of personal reassessment, extended improvisational sessions in Wales and London, and a conscious move toward authorship without the protective distance of a pseudonym. Made around themes of reflection, recovery and creative renewal, this sits within a record defined by meditative structures, collaborative breadth and a deliberate departure from the sonic expectations attached to Radiohead. Its release forms part of a broader repositioning, situating O’Brien’s solo catalogue as a distinct, process‑driven body of work emerging from a period of transition and redefinition. You can order the album via this link: https://amzn.to/4wS7qbu
Luluc – No One Else’s Pen
This warm analogue sounding track is one of the key singles from Luluc’s new 2026 album ‘Sweet Thief,’ a record that finds the Australian duo expanding their understated folk palette while holding fast to the calm, contemplative tone readily associated with their work. Recorded between New York and Melbourne and released via Community Music, the album focuses on themes of modern pressure, resistance and the search for personal equilibrium. ‘No One Else’s Pen’ stands out not only for its gently meditative framing but also for the presence of J Mascis, whose drumming adds a subtle weight beneath Zoe Randell and Steve Hassett’s characteristically restrained delivery. The track helps sketch the album’s broader picture of collaboration, soft-focus intensity and Luluc’s ongoing commitment to finding clarity in the margins. The album is available via this link: https://amzn.to/3R5Wo3f
The Mourning After – Let The Love-In Begin
And so we end this week with some deliciously hazy garage rock sounds courtesy of The Mourning After on Rogue Records. This marks a lively return for Sheffield garage‑punk stalwarts with roots in UK fuzz culture stretching back to the early ’90s and whose recent work has helped fuel a broader revival of raw, organ‑driven garage sounds. The song resurrects one of the group’s earliest compositions and dresses it in full technicolour of Hammond heat, Farfisa swirl, marimba shake and a distinctly late‑’60s psychedelic stomp that nods toward the wilder corners of San Francisco’s underground. Paired with the flip side ‘Take Love Then She’s Gone,’ a more familiar blast of fuzz guitar, chiming 12‑string and spectral sitar, the release positions The Mourning After as both archivists and agitators, tapping their long history while keeping the garage‑psych flame burning with undimmed enthusiasm. You can get the limited edition seven inch via this link: https://roguerecords.bandcamp.com/album/let-the-love-in-begin
This is not your average festival, not by a long stretch, which is why having tasted the thrill and ambience of Ely Folk Festival for the first time last year I have returned for more. And the mood in the summer heatwave air is one of justifiable celebration as this is their 40th festival, having grown considerably since launching as a Friday evening / all day Saturday event back in 1985. Performances were spread across various locations over Ely in those days, the evolution into the one site major festival sprawl we enjoy today across three stages with food and trader stalls, an ale lovers delight of a bar tent and numerous dance and craft activities for both the young and old has happened slowly but surely. There are also Morris Dance Sides who converge on Ely from far and wide participating in on site performances as well as a Saturday procession through the heart of the city centre. It all feeds into a multifaceted cultural feast of a festival that can quite justifiably claim to be a pivotal cornerstone of the summer roots circuit, particularly for folk who like their music without hype or egotistical showboating, played by committed craftspeople amidst an atmosphere encouraging participation. And it is not all just about acoustic music, there is plenty of rock ‘n’ roll punch, beats and rhythm to be heard in this simmering melting pot of songs and reels.
That said, the acoustic performers did see plenty of action this year and there were some unexpected opportunities for them to shine. On two occasions at the Nightingale stage, the tent with more of a club atmosphere and lay out, there were power cuts during sets. Now if this happened to many acts in other genres, it would bring proceedings crashing to an immediate halt as laptops cut out and various other audio enhancements disappear. This is emphatically not the case with a folk act. In fact, they almost step up even more determinedly with a glint in their eye that says, “I am equipped to overcome this situation.” I never did find out exactly what was going on with the power cuts, the rumour was there might have been an issue with a generator packing up in the oppressive heatwave sun, but it really did not matter. During the Nightingale Competition on Saturday evening (a great little competitive festival feature, fifteen acts singing up for two songs each, a judge selected winner opens the main stage on Sunday evening) the superb Chad Mason lost the power with a dramatic bang mid song and yet he hardly blinked before stating “I’ll just keep going.” Very good he was too, reminded me of a young Al Stewart which is no bad thing. Arguably though it was String Onion who had an even more challenging power outage on the Friday. Their set was basically the opening act for the whole weekend, but when they lost amplification, this self-effacing string collective, with some finely crafted songs of their own among the covers, just stepped back from the microphones and sang louder. That said, the player of the giant hand-crafted (by her Dad, also in the band) acoustic bass did hilariously make herself corpse by leaning into a microphone then remembering too late that it was out of service.
Members of String Onion and their incredible acoustic bass
Over on the opening night Kingfisher Stage, site power restored, Joe And Mary were plugging into the natural energy of old-time country and acoustic blues of the early twentieth century. The guitar playing was of a high stripe with songs igniting thanks to the easy comedic rapport of the couple. In a song about disagreement they are, ironically, delightfully tuned in to each other but they go deep too with a couple of heavy hitting emotional song punches. Next up Old Man Boom is a banjo playing purveyor of murder ballads and songs that explore the darker, gothic and macabre side of folk (or maybe foke is more apt) with a seasoning of wit and charm; the laughs he generated with a golden kazoo a good example of his natural verve. Stand outs were many, especially ‘The Man Who Couldn’t Die,’ but the set hit a real pitch with songs from a new EP promised to be “out soon, don’t ask me for a date, I don’t know.” Still, any act that can end with a rousing sing-along asking the question “do you want to join my cult?” to an audience unreservedly answering “yes” despite the most dubious enrolment promises, is alright by me.
Old Man Boom delivering some golden kazoo virtuosity
As always at any festival with three stages offering a constant rollover of acts worth hearing, there are periods when it is simply not possible to see everything you might enjoy. I am always attracted towards the spontaneous potential of an open stage, which was happening in the Nightingale, but did not want to miss the Merry Hell headlining the main stage. I am just going to have to live with whatever I missed because seeing the whole of this bands set was absolutely one of the best choices I made all weekend. The folk scene has had many great rabble rousers peddling a gypsy, punk spirit of spiralling electric fiddles, rolling thunder guitar and drums, pounding out songs of community, society, life, love, laughter and connection. I am of course thinking of bands like The Pogues, The Waterboys, The Levellers and Oysterband but I must have taken my eye off the ball because, as much as I have previously enthused over their albums, I had not reckoned with how spectacularly The Merry Hell have grabbed this space by the earholes and made it their own. If their fully loaded arsenal of brilliant songs like ‘Loving The Skin You’re In’ and ‘Bury Me Naked’ were not enough, they are a loveable bunch of muckers to boot. At one point lead singer Andrew Kettle points to his top hat wearing, mandolin playing brother Bob and says, “look at that, AI could never make that!” I was happy enough before I saw this band, I was positively delirious afterwards. If they are playing at a festival or in a town near you, I urge people to go and see them. If you do not like them, I will give you your money back, only I won’t because if you tried to tell me they were no good I wouldn’t believe you. Wow, what an opening night.
Raising some Friday night Merry Hell
My Saturday kicked off with Sailor Swift, an acoustic guitar toting artist formerly known as Pete Morton, who set the tone for an eclectic day in a set that fused storytelling, talking blues and comedy. He ended with a story of George Formby writing a song in the 1940s but subsequently losing the scrap of paper so that some opportunists decades later would claim the song as their own. So, we get to hear how the original George Formby version of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ should have sounded. Something like “just killed a man, put a gun against his head, pulled the trigger now he’s dead. Whoops!” I have seen comedy clubs with far less people doubled up in stitches for sure. I remained at the Kingfisher stage for a six piece all female sea shanty crew from Southend. They have been around for eight years and used to believe women were not allowed to sing sea shanties, likening it to being on a boat and the skipper saying, “you don’t want a witch in your cod end.” But they are here today to prove that women can get their shanty on and they do just that, covering material that ranges from punk shanty covers of New York to traditional Isle Of Wight fare. Admittedly, the Silver Darlings deliver their shanties with a wink that summons the ghosts of the Queen Vic and the unmistakable echo of Beverley from ‘Abigail’s Party’ holding court over the vol‑au‑vents, but behind the tongue‑in‑cheek Essex theatrics, they lock into harmonies with a precision that would make any folk purist sit up straight. Their down‑to‑earth banter only sweetens the deal, turning them into the kind of outfit you are delighted to be won over by.
Silver Darlings bring Essex sparkle and shanties to Ely
Over on the main stage Gerry Colvin, one of Ely Folk Festival’s most beloved past performers, is charming his audience every bit as much. His is a masterclass in country-tinged songwriter craft and I have to mention one of the funniest song introductions I heard all weekend from Gerry. Affectionately announcing a song about his late Father, he said “I know wherever he is now he is looking down on us.” A perfectly timed pause follows before, “he’s not dead, he’s just very condescending.” Later in the day, on that same stage, the warm summer sun is gently cooled by the soothing guitar, mandolin, fiddle and banjo stitchwork of The Shackleton Trio, who weave East Anglia‑rooted tales into a sound world that nods knowingly to both US and UK folk traditions. Soon though the lure of the Nightingale Competition was too strong to resist. Fair play to the eventual winner Rafe Barnett whose historically informed stories were a proper throwback to the days when folk song was a potent educational tool. I must give a little shout out to three other acts who left an impression on me. Gerd Wagner (who I also rated in 2025) and his classically elegant guitar playing is a true class act whilst my standout fire starter from last year, Douglas Smallbone, returned to detonate more raw intensity (if he could find a similar situation at a heavy rock / punk festival he might just walk away with the top spot) and then there were Folk Shop. Talented young acts like this give me hope that the folk tradition is in good hands, especially after repeatedly witnessing their core members George and Heather jamming, sitting in and generally just bathing in the pure pleasure of playing for the entire weekend. Honestly, I lost count of the times I heard them, they played on stages, in the bar, cross legged on the floor in the outdoor seated areas, they would probably have jammed at the Portaloo’s if they thought the queues would welcome some accompaniment.
Just one of the many Folk Shop members sightings
These quickfire stints in the club environment set me up nicely for an evening where some proper Saturday night festival fireworks are let off. First up Grace Petrie had a tank full of protest punk energy, establishing her queer icon credentials in a performance that felt quite cathartic. It was hard not to be moved by personal stories of identity and the struggle to feel comfortable in her own skin but the patriarchy baiting battle cry of ‘Black Tie’ left this vocally responsive audience certain she must be in a good place now. Next, I headed over to the Kingfisher stage because Hannah Sanders and Ben Savage were stirring a mesmerising brew of their own. I had not seen them previously and the festival programme describes one of the countries leading folk duos; it is always a treat to investigate something like this yourself and discover exactly why they are so well regarded. The pair are fascinating because the sound is vintage, as is their positioning around a central microphone, but there is something improbably contemporary about them too which is hard to place. Their combination of voices sound older than the bodies they are transmitting from, so perhaps the present-day element is simply that they channel such pure emotive feeling that it tramples over any older sonic references. Either way, they are like health food for the ears in the same way that the following Greenman Rising inspire a workout for the feet. Saturday night is always alright for dancing at a festival, after all you can crash out for ten hours at the campsite and recover through Sunday morning if required, and this does indeed prove to be the right band for getting people out of their seats for a heartily raucous bit of folksy crash, bang and wallop.
Hannah Sanders and Ben Savage busy stirring their mesmerising brew
Sunday is warmly ushered in with a long feature on the main stage called the Festivals Patrons Concert. The primary content is a couple of headline worthy sets, firstly from Cambridge based leading light of the roots, acoustic scene Brooks Williams followed by the formerly of this parish but now Glasgow based Boo Hewerdine. Brooks carries himself with the assuredness and musical authenticity of a genuine americana legend with the tunes and swagger to back it up, before Boo plays an equally winning card in performing songs from recent concept album ‘Things Found In Books.’ The record was made with Yvonne Lyon, joining Boo today too on keys and shared vocals. Despite the top-notch support this does end up being very much Hewerdine’s show, for all his terminally bemused stage demeanour. He plays the deadpan card well for laughs with stories about idiotic ancestors and meeting Paul McCartney before later reminding us there is a genuine hit to his name with ‘Patience Of Angels.’ The highlight though was a brace of momentous rhythm and blues style numbers played with Brooks to close the set (‘The Man With The Hammer’ and ‘Sweet Honey In The Rock’) reviving their State Of The Union collaboration. Boo’s closing ‘What A Wonderful World’ was beautiful enough to bring a lump to the throat, its simple optimism standing in stark contrast to the horrors filling the news each day.
Brooks Williams and Boo Hewerdine revive their State Of The Union
Over at the Kingfisher stage I was thrilled to catch Sherburn Bartley Sanders, especially as I had already missed a couple of earlier opportunities over the weekend. They are easily some of the best traditional folk purveyors you will encounter at a festival, Denny on guitar and vocals has the aura of a seasoned singer songwriter veteran, leading the band through deep Dylan cuts and popular twentieth century acoustic standards like ‘The Auld Triangle’ while Emily’s fiddle and vocals sweeten the deal so delightfully. Their not-so-secret secret weapon though is Chris on concertina, a man who cannot help but disarm an audience with his ever-present mischievous smirk and spontaneous audience interaction. He even got into a little back and forth going with the Fruit Tree photographer and I, riffing on the notion that we had fallen out. It is actually a very effective tactic, loosen the crowd up with comedy and then hit them between the ears with some of the greatest acoustic sounds of their lives. One of those groups that you make a mental note to definitely go and see should they play locally again. You wouldn’t want to travel to see them though (joke!)
The extremely photogenic Sherburn Bartley Sanders
Over on the main stage Alistair Russell and Chris Parkinson, both with storied CV’s that include long term participations in Battlefield Band and The House Band, among many others, cover the arena in hazy Sunday evening ambience playing Irish and Scottish music with an inclusive charm and particularly strong musicianship. I was glad to have this battery saving time because the night, and indeed the whole festival, was gearing up for an explosive finale over at the Kingfisher. The Coal Porters have been the most blistering bluegrass act on the scene throughout this century, but they called it a day in 2018. However, the five piece still get together for occasional live appearances; legendary musicologist, band leader and all-round font Sid Griffin spared some time to speak to Fruit Tree Records (full length interview to follow soon). “Everyone was asked if they wanted to accept the Ely Folk Fest offer and everyone seemed into it” he explained. As far as more permanent Coal Porters action goes, he reminds me that “seventeen years we went at it pretty hard” but does promise “there is a ‘Best Of The Coal Porters’ coming out next year with a live album attached, so we will be doing some dates to promote that release.” For tonight though we settle happily into the rush of a bluegrass act that rock the room with impressively eclectic material ranging from their own ‘The Day The Last Ramone Died’ alongside Paul Weller’s ‘Walls Come Tumbling Down’ and a gloriously swinging good-time romp through Chuck Berry’s ‘You Never Can Tell.’ Their message is emphatically that this music is good for you, but I would expand that statement to shout Ely Folk Festival is good for you and works wonders for the soul. Just as I concluded last year so it is once again, I cannot wait to return.
Words: Danny Neill Photos: Sophie Reichert
The Coal Porters prove the bluegrass groove Joe And Mary in perfect agreementTurned out nice again as Sailor Swift channels the ghost of George FormbyGreenman Rising land on the Saturday night Kingfisher stage with a bang Chad Mason moments before going ‘unplugged’Douglas Smallbone receiving approval for his unique mix of folk-punk edginess and honest charmGrace Petrie bringing a similar grain of emotive energy to the main stageBoo Hewerdine and Yvonne Lyon play songs from their album ‘Things Found In Books’One of numerous sightings of young Folk Shop members, George and Heather (partially obscured) jamming with other attendees, here in the beer tent late Friday night
‘Ladybirds Spine’ is a striking first glimpse of ANYX’s forthcoming debut ‘Starlink,’ a song that opens with overwhelming magnitude, wrapping the listener in guitars that surge in great, engulfing waves before the drums lock us into a lurching Velvets-like menace. Into that force steps a voice carrying a command that grabs us by the ears. ANYX (Berlin‑based artist Anna Lucia Nissen) sings from the perspective of feeling dwarfed by the world’s volume, its demands, its insistence on visibility, echoing her own admission that everything had begun to feel “too big, too loud, too much.” The image she chose, perched on a ladybird’s spine, seeing life from a tiny, overmatched vantage point, becomes the song’s emotional fulcrum. It is a powerful opening statement, setting the tone for a debut album that might be hard to ignore come the autumn time. You can pre-order the album here: https://anyx.bandcamp.com/album/starlink
Ty Segall – Black Paint
This is the first single from Ty Segall’s album ‘Chrome,’ out on LP/CD/CS from Drag City on August 28th. Happily, at least as far as I can tell from the information available thus far, this promises to be Ty’s most full on, loud electric full band offering for some time. That fuzz guitar assault and feral energy is certainly all over ‘Black Paint’ and it would appear that the rough edged live feel of the album was realised deliberately, with the band all rehearsing together a full month before actually recording. When they did eventually get it down in the studio, the sessions were done in just six days with the line up of Ben Boye, Evan Burrows, Mikal Cronin, Emmett Kelly who were the same band members for some of Segall’s most ferocious and memorable live shows in the past. Expect good stuff ahead, you can pre-order the album via this link: https://amzn.to/4p93hgu
Oral Habit – Thin Trippin’
This was the moment Oral Habit stopped me in my tracks, summoning the vintage grazing indie‑guitar shimmer with playing that leans into groove as much as it toys with electric‑guitar posturing. The uninhibited way they throw the song across the room, as if mistaking it for a pop tune would be entirely your problem. It carries strong echoes of the early nineties, when UK bands channelled the debris of twentieth‑century cultural life (sixties garage records in family lofts, late‑night cult film reruns, abandoned guitars and vintage organs) into something raw and reactionary. Oral Habit are not revivalists of the revivalists, but ‘Thin Trippin’ plugs straight into those appealing influences while adding their own grunge‑flecked, psych‑tilted, college‑rock abandon. It is the first sign of a band who wrap their whole essence around a hard‑kicking rock melange that emphatically announces they are their own, unique force. You can get a download of the album this way: https://amzn.to/4gqyB8p
Pearl And The Oysters – Mandarin Moon
This track is taken from the new Pearl And The Oysters album ‘Monkey Mind,’ out now on Stones Throw. The critical reception for the release has noted their expansiveness, how they have boldly incorporated many eclectic leaning styles such as sophisti‑pop, bossa, electronica, psych‑pop, alongside lounge‑leaning textures that have resulted in a bright, meticulously arranged whole. Fans and early listeners highlighted its “sharp yet cozy soundscape” and its dense, detail‑rich production. All of which caught my ear too, particularly this lush number that seems to embrace the spooky delirium of an earlier than expected moon arrival casting a spell on those who encounter it. You can get a download of the album via this link: https://amzn.to/4h4moq4
Hollow Hand – Here Are The Tulips
Here is some folk rock with a real satisfying tension and release, it feeds into the major/minor electric jangle that the genre wears in its purest form but it is executed with such panache, the sound feels like a long lost friend returning home. Forthcoming album ‘Wish Road South,’ a newly revitalised effort from Max Kinghorn‑Mills and his Brighton band, arrives on September 4th via Loose Music / Soundl. Led by this breezy first single, it was the moment Kinghorn‑Mills realised he had “found something” in its live, unforced spark. The record captures everyday stories with unfussy warmth, realised with a shift away from bedroom production toward a fully collaborative, live‑tracked trio. Born from bus rides, fresh creative zeal and a renewed sense of purpose, this record marks Hollow Hand’s most open, immediate and instinctive work yet. You can pre-order the album on vinyl via this link: https://amzn.to/44ngUPP
Sera Cahoone – Pulling Up Roots
Sera Cahoone returns this August with ‘I’ve Missed You All These Years,’ her first album in eight years and it is a bright, collaborative work created alongside the long climb back following profound loss. Ahead of its release, she offers a first glimpse with ‘Pulling Up Roots,’ a barroom‑swinging single whose spirit she describes as “getting to the other side and experiencing growth and momentum after a challenging time.” It’s a fitting entry point into a record that looks past the dark winter and toward the moment the light comes back in; it is also a collection of blues‑folk‑country songs fuelled by community, clarity and the hard won triumph of rediscovering yourself. You can get on the pre-order list by following this link: https://amzn.to/4f8h2Yw
I have found such delight in the discovery of this superb debut album by an act I had previously never heard of, that it prompted me to ponder with some frustration the crowded field they are about to occupy. There has to be a space for quieter music, for sounds that do not demand much, or any, amplification to hit their targets. But sometimes it can feel that the convenience of writing and recording for the bedroom artist leads to an introspection overindulgence. There are so many gentle troubadours staring at their feet, strumming a couple of chords at a painfully slow pace, whispering their woes into a recording device that the more cynical listener might enquire, is this really how you feel, or are you just performing like that because it is easy? I do wonder if a stricter critical ear might benefit these artists, injecting them with a motivation to work harder and actually write a tune that people will remember and enjoy listening to. I do not know if the acoustic duo Almost Friends had this kind of production encouragement (and given the main mans history I doubt they needed it anyway) but supposing for the sake of argument they did, it absolutely worked. This is a soft, delicate album of acoustic instrumentals and melodically rich songs that show definitively how it should be done. Furthermore, it is proof that when there is a finer quality to the music, composition that has been harvested from a pure grain, this kind of style resonates with as much power and impact as any rock band.
Almost Friends are an acoustic duo consisting of Aggi Vrettou and Arturo Barretti, and their independently released ‘Again, Not Again’ moves with the tranquil hum of songs written in the margins of ordinary life. Essentially, they are born of Konstantinos Protopapas, who appears as Arturo here but is also known to some as Gus Boggar. He is a Greek multi-project musician and songwriter, a founding member of Effigy who later flexed his psych/kraut muscles in Chickn as well as with Prins Obi. So far so Bevis Frond, so all good with me. This project is built on intimate folk, pop‑folk and sparse singer‑songwriter arrangements, the record lingers on repetition, memory and the strange comfort of returning to the same unresolved feelings. Arturo says of these pieces, they were “written quietly, in between things, in moments that did not seem important at the time.” They carry the hush of late‑night rooms and unsteady voices, tracing distance and closeness at once while drawing on influences from Dan Reeder and Bill Callahan to Josienne Clarke, Myriam Gendron and Elliott Smith. A track has already been selected for an upcoming FATEA compilation, with mastering on the recordings the work of Iraklis Vlachakis.
The album shifts between lead vocals from both Aggi and Arturo with a sprinkling of solo guitar pieces, which ensures the song sequence never sits still. The guitar pieces are especially engaging; the strings being picked with the composure and skill of a classical player. Take ‘Like Everybody Else’ as an example, it moves through distinct progressions in a way that reminded me of the early Genesis piece ‘Horizons,’ only this is better. Aggi’s voice has a softly glowing clarity, it feels almost whispered into the air yet beneath that gentleness you sense a deeper strength she never needs to fully reveal. It is a steady, ringing presence that cuts cleanly through the room, so opening the record with her unaccompanied vocal on ‘Valentine’ is a canny curtain raiser. When the subject matter turns dark, they cleverly counterbalance it with positive energy, like on ‘Lovely To Return After A Fall’ wherein depression is knocking on the singer’s door, but it is faced down with a banjo led stomper that is sprightly and defiant. By contrast, the Arturo vocal on ‘Leave Me Alone’ is a thing of brooding menace until he hits the satisfying release of the chorus. There are lighter numbers too, like ‘Fishing Blues’ that has the breezy air of old-time country blues. It all leads us to closing number ‘To Pray Or Not,’ which is something of an epic, pulling on all the dramatic arrangement structures Arturo gets to refine in his other, more sonically expansive, projects. By ending this musical journey in such dark, gothic splendour Almost Friends underline what a strong piece of work this is. The influences I mention are all valid but ultimately, this is an independently crafted piece that exists in a space of its own and I strongly advise both the connoisseurs and the curious to go and pay this album a visit.
Fruit Tree Records 