When you hear stories about artists creating a buzz before having released a note of music to the public, it's often a signal that the hype will exceed what is delivered. Marketing in these social media savvy times is cheap, and far less tiresome and complicated than recording or releasing music in many cases. So, the really efficient publicist will have people talking about an artist without really knowing quite what it's all about. But Rachel Sermanni's name was being mentioned constantly for well over a year without any of this industry machinery clanking into action at all, and it was being uttered in those hushed tones people use when they think they've stumbled across something really special. People spoke of 'that voice' and 'those songs' before trailing off in disbelief. And often these were people who already made or wrote about music - the very people who are usually most cynical about such things. Now, finally the evidence is captured for a wider audience. It's not easy to determine if this is really Rachel's debut EP, or if that role falls to last years "Bothy Sessions". That was a strangely atmospheric, rough-hewn collection of songs which reflected a very specific recording process in a particular place and a time - and in that sense was almost a live recording. This is a very different prospect indeed. It's polished, but not overly so - and it uses a far wider range of instruments and textures to capture both the spirit and the mood of these songs perfectly.

There are songs here which have circulated in demo versions or cropped up in Sermanni's live set for some time, finally committed to record and all the better for their sometimes lengthy journeys in time and place. Over time they seem to have become richer and more careworn, and the palette which Rachel uses to paint these complex, intriguing pictures has darkened surprisingly. Veteran of many a performance, "Song to a Fox" begins with strange, quivering metallic guitars and a dramatic, pensive atmosphere before Rachel's voice swells into the stride of the song. The urban fairytale develops further with a keening violin and a strange throb of drums entering the increasingly complex but still compelling fray. Pitched somewhere between a sweeping spaghetti western soundtrack and a traditional folk melody, it's near impossible to pin down this song, which perfectly reflects the ways of the creature which shares it's name. Having heard this stripped back to just voice and guitar, it's almost a shock to hear this treatment - however, what is preserved despite the ornamentation is the sense of space and freedom which this remarkable voice always seems to conjure. Next, "Black Current" continues by exploring two of Rachel's oft revisited themes - darkness and dreams. It starts with an uncomplicated, unassuming shuffle which is immediately transformed as Sermanni's voice spirals high into the air, intoning transformational dreamscapes. The music here tells it's own story, skipping from stuttering passages of tension to swooping bass-led descents. Picking up the curious, unsettling staccato, the final transformations begin with "I feel my limbs shrink/into my fins", and suddenly the song has mutated into a strange, dizzy waltz.

The eerie drama persists as "The Fog" opens with urgently picked guitars and a shiver of horror movie violins. The atmosphere here is dusty, bone dry and darker still than the first two tracks. However, despite being perhaps the most musically complex piece on the record, this is by far a stand out vocal performance. Rachel's voice leaps from a beguiling, whispered come-on to a gutsy, bluesy rasp and then proceeds to switch effortlessly between the two as the song veers crazily between light and dark, quiet and dramatically shrill. This is wonderfully atmospheric gothic storytelling, steeped in the dust of years but indeterminate in it's place in history. The instruments skitter and twist, before reuniting for a final chorus of "Mercy, Mercy/I've been caught/lying with my darkest thought". Here it's evident that Rachel's ability to sing is matched by a dramatic skill, the vocal as much acted as sung. Solid thuds of stand-up bass bring in the gloriously redemptive, and by now much needed "Breathe Easy". The atmosphere shifts entirely, building around a simpler melody which matches heart-stopping orchestral swells with vocal pirouettes. This atmosphere supports a far less enigmatic lyric which instead explores strength and resilience around a central refrain of "we'll swim/knowing rain can't touch us". With less instrumental backing than on the previous three songs, the voice is more than ever the centrepiece, and the record ends on a genuinely beautiful high.

I realise I've waxed somewhat lyrically about this EP perhaps, but that's the kind of mood this music inspires. Its thought-provoking, indulgently dark moods invite you in, but don't always reveal the secrets behind the songs. The dramatic span of this music far defies being labelled - as it almost certainly will be - traditional folk music. It's connection to all the best aspects of pop music is clear in the ability Rachel Sermanni has to captivate and hold a listener rapt for the next twist, and the often cleverly underplayed instrumentation provides just the right touches to urge the black-edged stories on apace. This is a remarkable document of the first steps of an utterly remarkable talent.

Rachel Sermanni - The Fog

You can purchase "Black Currents" on CD from Townsend Records or digitally via iTunes or Amazon MP3.

I've written about music intermittently for the past ten years or so, and during that time I've read a fair bit about it too. I've been constantly amazed how often people reviewing things, and I include myself in this, use the phrase 'indescribable'. Is it the ultimate get-out clause perhaps? To suggest that something is beyond the writers comprehension (either as a positive or negative statement) seems a bit of a weak response to challenging art. But some things are difficult to pin down and to glibly describe in a short review - and 'In Rooms' is very much one of those odd things. Born of a challenge laid down by comedienne Josie Long to The Pictish Trail, this record contains fifty songs of exactly thirty seconds duration. This could be a gimmick - it could be a disaster in fact - but what has emerged from this project is a set of fully formed miniature songs. Beautiful works in themselves, and full of the heartbreak and hilarity which Johnny Lynch specialises in - but tiny and detailed. A bit like the toy soldiers your granddad used to paint perhaps.

The album is available as a vinyl only release - a recent Fence policy which is causing me to hunt down a decent USB turntable very much as I type, but there is a concession with this release to a CD-R of the tracks. This isn't to facilitate or appease the digitally-obsessed among us at all - it is in fact to offer the listener the opportunity to hear the tracks in an order of their choice. While Pictish Trail has assembled what he feels is the best running sequence on the vinyl, each CD-R has a different run. In the spirit of this, my first instinct was to hit 'random' and listen. A strange, bewildering and sometimes frustrating experience followed. Songs appeared, the constraints of the timescale meaning that introductions were short. Then a verse and a chorus and they were gone. For some tiny nuggets like 'Sweating Battery Acid' this was just enough - the idea of the song condensed into a thudding electronic pulse made sense. In other cases like the sublime 'Not To Be' its much too quick - and the song could happily have carried on. Indeed, I understand it does when Johnny sings it live - and I wonder how many of these little gems are in fact experiments which will develop further?

However it would be a mistake to think this album is a joke or gimmick - or indeed anything less than a collection of carefully constructed songs like any other. There is wonderful music here to be savoured - ranging from the bizarre and entertaining disco romp of 'My Fizzy Bitz', through the plaintive acoustics of 'Tell Me What Is On Your Mind' to the throbbingly danceable falsetto of 'Arm In' - which has more in common with Johnny's Silver Columns project. Personal favourites include 'Wavelengths' and 'Prequels' which in their short spans manage to summarise the clever, intricate and detailed songwriting which are hallmarks of The Pictish Trail. There are of course, far too many tracks to mention - and the breadth of material means you definitely shouldn't listen to my opinion. Go and buy this soon instead!

In considering this record though, the curious world of Fence Records is also a key factor. There is something warm and encouraging about the ethic at work up in Cellardyke which makes every listener feel like part of a special family - but like all families, there are frustrations and disagreements at times. However, they're soon healed with a talk and a drink, and an invitation to visit. After all, this is nothing that won't be fixed by shelling out on a turntable! However, out of respect for the stance Fence are taking, I'm not going to include an MP3 with this review, as we all know there are clever ways to misappropriate them from media players! No, folks - this is one to discover yourself via the shop at Fence Records. The oddity and novelty of the presentation aside, this record manages to showcase the many and almost impossibly varied talents of Johnny Lynch. Don't let the strangeness put you off - it's time to embrace the Fence and learn to love The Pictish Trail all over again.

Just like all the best shows, I started out thinking I couldn't be bothered and ended up being blown away. On leaving work tonight, the slog up to Bristol in freezing weather and the inevitable long cold wait for 1C59 on the way home was not inviting. It was very tempting just to stay in the pub at Weston station. But of course I wouldn't have. The last two experiences of seeing Belle and Sebastian in concert have been truly amazing, and I wouldn't miss this - practically a home town show for me at last - for the world!

So, arrived a little late to avoid a wait outside the Colston Hall and found a seat just behind the stalls to relax and enjoy support act Brakes featuring ex-British Sea Power members. Really enjoyed their abrupt punky sound, punctuated by little bursts of pop and country. On occasions they reminded me of Wire with Black Francis on lead vocals, but that could only be a good thing! A nice long set too - early starts and respectable finish times at the Colston Hall always seem to persuade bands to pack lots into their sets, and they finished with an exemplary Comma, Comma, Comma, Full Stop.

Following the strangely anachronistic Colston Hall tradition of ice cream selling girls parading their wares in the interval, the lights went down for the main event. Found myself feeling strangely excitied, despite my reservations earlier. Every time I see Belle & Sebastian I manage to rekindle a little of the feeling of childish expectation and mystery that accompanied the trip to Shepherds Bush almost ten years ago. Need not have worried - the band were on fine form. Lots of new stuff, including Suki in the Graveyard which I've grown to love over the past couple of months, alongside the should-be-hit Funny Little Frog and the could-be-hit White Collar Boy.

Lots of older things thrown in too, including Electronic Renaissance which they stopped short of playing at Somerset House two summers back. The set ended with a stunning Judy and the Dream of Horses. For an encore we got a celebratory If You Find Yourself Caught In Love which turned the ususally reserved Bristol audience into something resembling an evangelical TV preacher's flock! Once again, the band were spot on - strings, brass and all manner of strange instruments swapped around quickly. Stevie Jackson, once again the most relaxed man on stage by a mile, slipping effortlessly from the pristine jangle of the older hits into the seventies-style riffing of the new material. Mention must also be made of a swirling and mesmerising Lonliness of the Middle Distance Runner - first 'officially' heard at the Shepherds Bush show, and still spine-tinglingly fresh today thanks to Beans' hammond playing!

Things always finish at a 'respectable' hour at the Colston Hall, so I hammered across town in an effort to catch to 22:55 home. Missed it by seconds, and predictably waited for a long time for a late 1C59. I didn't mind too much in the circumstances.

Today started out along much the same pattern as yesterday. First to Bristol in glorious sunshine, then onto a Birmingham-bound Voyager towards threatening clouds. Changed for an all-stops Walsall unit at New Street, and soon alighted at a very wet, cloudy and muddy Bescot Stadium. Wandered alongside the yard - no easy photographs within my limited camera range, so headed onto the footbridge. Pretty quiet, with a few arriving Class 66s and some shunting moves on the depot.

Attempted a walk along the riverside path, but gave up due to muddy conditions. Appeared only to be the distinctive 37402 lurking at the back of the shed anyway. Watched 86628 storm through the station, before heading back to New Street.

Wandered into Birmingham for the first time in a good few years. Amazed at the way the Bull Ring and surrounding areas have changed. Got quite lost, despite only being a few yards from the station entrance. Briefly stopped into a couple of shops, and picked up the new Wedding Present single, before having a coffee and heading back into the station.

Since I'd spent less time at Bescot than planned, decided to head for Stafford which always seems busy with enthusiasts. Arrived to find 47840 playing Thunderbird today.


Spent some time chatting with local (and not so local) folks, and watched 57010 pass through on a Freightliner, followed by 92010 and 92011 in turn. Just before I left, 57316 arrived from Oxley, reversed and departed via the Trent Valley.

Arrived back at New Street in good time for the 17:12 Voyager, which threatened to be extremely busy. Time to look around the station a little more, stumbling across 87030 awaiting departure for Euston.


Miraculously, got a comfortable seat easily enough on the Voyager with only a minimum of pushing and shoving. Quick, and slightly early run straight back to Weston.