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.
It might seem like country music has done all its evolving by this point, that the end game has been arrived at with its current mainstream pop sheen success. Where can it go from here other than reach back and try to recapture that western grit and sawdust authenticity that made it such a vital staple of American roots music in the twentieth century? Well, no, it is not quite as simple as that because with this debut album by Andrew Sa, there is an undeniable sense of country music making one further great leap forward. Admittedly it is less to do with the music, which draws on a multitude of vintage styles and influences, but we will come to that, and more to do with the straight edged posturing the original country music establishment prided itself on. Those good ol’ boys did not care much for long hairs, for hippies, for different ethnicities and they certainly had no place for queers. All of which makes the arrival of Andrew Sa quite the bold entrance. His music is informed by the folk and blues storytelling traditions for sure, but the real country DNA to his sound reaches back to the mournful ballads sung by Patsy Cline and Webb Pierce. On top of that Andrew proudly sings with vulnerability, raw emotion and tenderness. He is free to express, to sing of his experiences in the gay community and demand his songs a place in the country canon without inhibition.
The most direct reference to his place in the lineage can be found in lead single ‘Lavender Cowboy.’ It is a purposeful shout out to his late friend Patrick Haggerty, whose early seventies band Lavender Country were a pioneering influence on gay activism in the country community, but were ultimately shut out by an industry hostile to their open sexuality. Of the song Sa says, “I was chasing that elusive happy/sad bop, writing most of the song on my tenor guitar in a hotel room near Seattle, WA following Patrick’s ‘Celebration of Life.’ He inspired countless people and I wanted to capture the essence of that. There’s an old novelty/humor song by the same name that’s rather homophobic, so I also hope to rewrite the narrative on the ‘Lavender Cowboy.’” The song is a thing of yearning, pedal steel enhanced sweeping, elegant beauty. The perfect theme tune that ‘Midnight Cowboy’ never had. It also provides an opportunity for Andrew to flex his vocal range, his voice a mix of the buoyant balladeer and the fragile, cracked up font that is wrestling not to be overcome with his heavy feelings. A similar combination can be heard on ‘You Turned Me On’ although this one leans harder into a southern soul groove, the horns pushing the chorus to an elevation that when it arrives, positively rains down on us with sumptuous glory.
Andrew Sa’s path to ‘American Rough’ begins in the cab of his father’s ’86 Ford F150, packed in with his siblings and absorbing the emotional charge of Reba, the Eagles, and top‑40 country while his dad occasionally pulled a Gibson Les Paul from under the bed like a secret doorway into a former life. After his mother remarried and launched a karaoke business, Sa was nudged onto stages as a child, already gravitating toward Patsy Cline’s saddest songs, an early sign of the aching balladry that defines this debut. He wandered for a while, falling hard for jazz singers and discovering queer icons like Rufus Wainwright and k.d. lang, whose unapologetic artistry cracked open his sense of what a queer performer could be. Acting stints in the Bay Area and Portland came and went, but a songwriting class at Chicago’s Old Town School of Folk Music rerouted everything, pulling him into a community of queer country misfits and collaborators (Liam Kazar, Sully Davis, Lavender Country, and the gloriously camp Cosmic Country Showcase) where his siren‑like croon became a fixture. By 2021, early sketches with Kazar led him to producer H.C. McEntire, whose raw, country rasp and emotional clarity felt like the missing piece. Together with co‑producer/engineer Missy Thangs and a wide cast of musicians, they built this album in North Carolina and Chicago; a tender, cinematic album meditating on queer longing, Chicago nights, and Sa’s evolving sense of masculinity, held together by the trust and vulnerability made possible under the guidance of two women at the helm. Ultimately this is an album that knocks down doors, not least to unleash an artist whose potential reaches way beyond the confines of a traditional community he is already pushing into a new era.
Dent May’s latest release ‘I Remember’ is much like a postcard from the wide‑open creative world he built while making ‘The Big One,’ his seventh LP and the first to fully abandon the bedroom for the communal hum of the Honeymoon Suite, a Los Angeles based studio he runs with producer Paul Cherry. With friends drifting in and out, no rehearsals, no fixed plans, the record grew out of pure improvisation, whatever happened in the room became the music. That spirit is heard clearly in this track, a DIY‑ELO daydream that looks back on past relationships with warmth rather than autopsy, folding May’s Elephant 6 scrappiness and ’70s singer‑songwriter glow into an optimistic ode to the people who moulded him. You can pre-order the album via this link: https://dentmay.bandcamp.com/album/the-big-one
Indigo Sparke – There Is A Light On The Horizon Line
This arrives as a standalone transmission for now, though it has enough muscle and depth of well executed ideas that it could easily anchor a future album. Recorded in Bristol with John Parish and an extraordinary ensemble of Adrian Utley, Seb Rochford, Shahzad Ismaily, and Adam Brisbin, Sparke tracked the song while 33 weeks pregnant, its mantra‑like pulse inspired by a moment of profound personal transition. Circling the line “There is a light on the horizon line,” she finds a power in repetition whilst exploring freedom, identity, and the quiet, tectonic shifts that accompany becoming someone new. You can find the song via this link: https://amzn.to/4eLASK1
The Black Wizards – Loose
The Black Wizards’ new single ‘Loose’ lands as the first jolt of energy from their forthcoming album ‘Force Majeure & The Acts of God,’ out September 4th via Hassle Records. The album is named after the legal term for uncontrollable circumstances, and this is the sound of that very thing. The Porto trio of Joana Brito, José Gomes, and Helena Peixoto have shed the doomy, stoner‑rock fog of their earlier work in favour of a leaner, sharper, and more volatile edge with ‘Loose’ being the clearest sign of that shift. Built on garage‑rock swagger, a bluesy stomp, and the band’s first prominent use of wobbly synth, the track channels Joana’s “groovy wandering on anxiety thoughts and feeling trapped inside your own head,” turning everyday pressures like low pay, rough working conditions and the grind of the modern world into a taut, straight‑to‑the‑point chorus with verses that release just enough tension to keep you moving forward. You can pre-order the album here: https://amzn.to/4fnqGGT
Bity Booker – The Owl Song
‘The Owl Song’ opens Bity Booker’s ‘There’s No Song About A Stone’ LP with the kind of folksy magic that makes her such an unexpected and mesmerising discovery. In a field crowded with acoustic singer‑songwriters, Booker stands apart, her music carrying an air of mystery and other‑realm enchantment that resists explanation. The track plays like a call‑and‑response with its titular owl, a delicate, whimsical piece that recalls Joanna Newsom with its spirited eccentricity. It sets the tone for an album drawing on time, dreams, weather, and the living ambience of the room she recorded in. It is a deeply individual work that glides between natural serenity and subtle strangeness, announcing Booker as an artist who follows her own internal weather and casts a spell entirely her own. You can buy the album and other Bity Booker releases via this link: https://bitybooker.bandcamp.com/music
Perennial – What’s New On The Beat Scene
Perennial’s ‘What’s New On The Beat Scene’ is a whiplash‑quick burst of the New England trio’s signature kinetic chaos, an early flare from their forthcoming album ‘Modernism,’ out 18th September via Safe Suburban Home. Built from the band’s crate‑digging obsessions which lead them to Stax/Volt grooves, 60s mod punch, abstract punk angles, fuzz bass and Townshend‑style feedback chatter, the track distils their “20‑minute marathon” ethos into an explosive pocket symphony. It is a statement‑of‑purpose rave‑up: sharp, sweaty, and over almost before you have registered how many ideas are crammed into its tightly wound frame. Be sure to pre-order the album from this link: https://perennialtheband.bandcamp.com/album/modernism
Dermot Henry – Dead Man’s Dog
Finally for this week, some new singer-songwriter action that immediately feels like the work of a real craftsman and a classicist in the form. Whilst this is a live clip from last year, it finds its way to Fresh Juice qualification firstly because I have only just come across it, but secondly as it is is the fourth track on Dermot’s 2026 EP ‘Aiming Torches At The Sun,’ released only recently on May 15th. It was produced by Dom Monks, with Henry writing the songs alongside Oscar Lang. The recording credits show a small ensemble around him: drums by Niall Henry, strings by Henry Rankin, Charlie Schnurr, and Katt Newlon, bass and percussion by Lomax, and background vocals from Eli Torgersen and Lomax. It is a remarkable heads up to the arrival of a major new talent, reminds me a bit of how Jake Bugg first appeared from seemingly out of nowhere armed with a musical gift hinting at decades of wisdom and proficiency, totally at odds with the young age of the artist. One to watch for sure, you can get your hands on the EP via this link: https://dermothenry.com/
This months playlist is accompanied by a photo feature. If you read my review of the latest Tift Merritt album you will have seen my referring to the first time I saw her at a festival about twenty years ago. Well, that was actually the 2006 Cambridge Folk Festival, I was taking photos to go with my review of the event and I have just been up to the loft and uncovered them. Seeing as they are mostly unpublished, now seems as good a time as any to put them up for viewing. In the same files I also found photos I took at the first ever Latitude Festival the same month, so I am sharing them too below:
Tift Merritt at Cambridge Folk Festival 2006Teddy Thompson at Cambridge Folk Festival 2006Ezio at Cambridge Folk Festival 2006Nickel Creek at Cambridge Folk Festival 2006Nickel Creek at Cambridge Folk Festival 2006Emmylou Harris at Cambridge Folk Festival 2006Cerys Matthews at Cambridge Folk Festival 2006Richard Thompson at Cambridge Folk Festival 2006Nizlopi at Cambridge Folk Festival 2006Broken Family Band at Cambridge Folk Festival 2006Chieftains at Cambridge Folk Festival 2006Lemonheads at Latitude 2006Nicky Wire at Latitude 2006Richard James at Latitude 2006The Zutons at Latitude 2006Patti Smith at Latitude 2006Jose Gonzalez at Latitude 2006Mercury Rev at Latitude 2006James Yorkston at Latitude 2006Lavender Diamond at Latitude 2006Giant Drag at Latitude 2006Latitude 2006
I have seen Richard Thompson live more times than I can remember over the past three decades, but this is the first time he has ever considered performing a strip. Not, I should add, because he has hit a fork in the road and is exploring other tactics to bag attention, but rather because we find ourselves in the middle of a record-breaking British heatwave and there is not a single soul in this packed, elegant and acoustically superb theatre who have not got their mind on staying hydrated. For Richard, other than reaching for a towel between every song, this hot tub is bringing the extra challenge of needing to extensively tune his acoustic guitar ahead of each song. Again, I have seen him play a multitude of times (because Richard is always worth catching) and he normally conducts the tuning up in a way that the audience barely notice, simultaneously indulging in that endearingly diffident dialogue of his, but those strings do not like the heat too much and tonight it adds a layer of jeopardy. Richard rarely looks anything other than in absolute control but at one point, when his partner Zara Phillips had joined him onstage for some vocal harmonising, he throws his arms out wide with a look that says, “I’m just going to have to plough on through.” Which indeed he does and ultimately, the performer, situation and audience all come together and connect in a kind of musical defiance that, for a couple of hours at least, has us all forgetting how hot we are. And no, he did not resort to stripping, despite at one time suggesting, “it might have to be the trousers first.”
Smith & Brewer
The same intensity was also burning down on opening duo, Smith and Brewer. They are a perfect choice to share a bill with Richard Thompson, both can weave some intricate threads out of their guitars, their styles subtly different enough for one to be counterbalancing the other, a most pleasing blend. In terms of style, there are appealing Everly Brothers tones to both the set up and the influences, but they can play a wide range of inspirational roots from americana to folk and indeed, they could almost have stepped out of a Fairport Convention performance school. Even their appearance has an undeniable feel of Britishness, they look like a classic old comedy double act, Smith more pompous and aspirational and Brewer the hapless, clueless enthusiast. They are a serious proposition though (maybe the heat was making my brain a bit wavy too?) and took the opportunity to tout an impressive arsenal of songs to a crowd suitably aligned to their sound. Which is actually exactly the same thing as Richard Thompson is doing on this current tour. Admittedly he did play a couple of new songs from an album scheduled for release in October, but other than that this is a solo acoustic show where Thompson is playing songs from all corners of a near seven decade recording career. I have to say, I love these kinds of tours because, with a back catalogue like this, you are going to hear some wonderful essentials and a generous number of deep cuts.
Tonight, that repertoire was explored extensively and it struck a balance that surely satisfied both the casual and more obsessive fans of his music. The opening trio of ‘I Misunderstood,’ ‘Saving The Good Stuff For You’ and ‘Valerie’ (before which he joked about being responsible for artists using song titles that already exist) set a standard that was impressively maintained. There were the centrepiece classics long time audience members might expect; timeless folk masterpieces like ‘Beeswing’ and ‘1952 Vincent Black Lightning,’ that accomodate a platform to dazzle with his incredible guitar dexterity. Then lesser championed but no less worthy tunes such as ‘If I Could Live My Life Again’ off the lockdown period ‘Bloody Noses’ EP and ‘Walking The Long Miles Home,’ from 1999’s ‘Mock Tudor’ which I still argue is one of his greatest ever albums. Furthermore, I always delight in spotting a Thompson debutant or two in the crowd, observing them bowled over by that guitar playing then recalling my own similar reaction all those years ago. It is something close to awe as you recognise that unaccompanied, he is playing rhythm, a bass line and lead guitar riffs with just two hands and making it all sound so effortless. After taking a request for ‘Al Bowlly’s In Heaven’ Richard feels the urge to apologise for the absence of a band (“I said nine o’clock Heathrow, this can’t continue”) believing it better suited to this kind of arrangement. As fair as that assessment is, it bypasses what a tour-de-force the song is when played, as tonight, solo. The depressed blues of the post war limbo in the lyric, vividly juxtaposed by the flashes of 1940s swing band sparkle of the background setting, all brought to life by the incredible, colourful signatures and brush strokes of Richard’s fretwork. By the time he hits the desperate “I’m in limbo now” crescendo at the finish, the hairs on my arms are standing up. There is a reason Richard Thompson is regarded, with all too little fanfare, as one of Britain’s greatest performers and it is all there to be witnessed and heard within the quality of his work. Tonight has been a true delight, unspoiled by even a heatwave’s attempt to overcook it.
