Its not easy being objective when having to write a review of an artist whose two previous works I simply fell in love with and reviewed glowingly with oodles of praise! It’s just that this style of British folk-prog has always resonated with me, and Brendan is the consummate multi-instrumentalist, who can shine from one end of the stage to the other, handling instruments like a battery of polished silverware, eager for a gourmet repast. Both last year’s “Stories from the Old Church Lane” and the previous 2024 “Favourite Places” were not only well received but also managed to bowl over quite an army of critics, reviewers and DJs in the process. Understandably, as it is very easy to answer: incredible melodies, subtle instrumentation, poetic lyrics from Helen Flunder, all within an indelible atmosphere that takes one away into dreamland and a hefty dose of passion, all combine to make this artist a current favourite. Though I may be Canadian, I will not apologize (we have this reputation, you see).
The opening port of call is “Rest at the Shoreline”, where no time is wasted in setting the musical backdrop, a delicate foundational set-up with his patented confident guitar strokes and a voice that entrances, as the tale is told in most convincing tones. The liquid fretboard eruption is a caress one will likely not dismiss, Brendan’s vocal tone soothing and dream-like, ‘as the distant gas lamps flicker’ and with shuttered eyes, one can direct the movie playing in one’s mind. The underlining piano and keyboard orchestration, the bass equally prominent when prompted, and one more fluid guitar stream, for good measure. Seduction incarnate.
“Banks of the Fleet” maintains the aquatic feel, lest we forget that the source is an island surrounded by empirical oceans and seas, a hardy people known to explore the boundaries of time and space. Lochs, lakes, rivers, streams and rivulets provide endless continuity and tradition, which certainly comes across in the vivid music. The flowing melodies show no surrender, the floating soloing moments only enhancing the story told. One has to admire how craftily the variations enter seamlessly, often guided by that up-front bass that , in all honesty, enchanted me from the first day my ears discovered this artist! Simply beautiful.
The title track leaves the wavering emotion in the piano’s delicate fingers, the electric guitar gliding gently above, restraint incarnate. Melancholy, reflection and introspective expression appear in the pleading voice, asking desperately for answers, as the sweet sounds embalm the soul. This style of music is not laden with complex time signature terminologies that will dazzle the diehard technicians out there but a magnificent grasp of passion, atmosphere and melody that will tempt and seduce the most sensitive ears, every note played having a targeted purpose in the seduction.
Dripping with overt ‘Britishness’, the heroic 10 minute + “Binbrook Skyline” , the intro rekindling memories of Smallcreep’s Day, Mike Rutherford’s first and surely best solo album, often regarded as one of the hidden jewels in the prog pantheon. The command expressed here is immensely powerful, with massive mellotron-infused choir colorations dominating in the first third, as the shape of things to come begins to tell the story. Brendan calls in his secret weapon once again, as the bustling bass hurtles the pace forward, solidifying both the pace and the direction of this extended piece, never letting go. The fretboards opt for a jangly chop reboot, recalling the choral grandeur , crowned by the delivery of a slippery axe solo that screeches, bellows and cries with heartfelt emotion. Applause factory.
A well-deserved moment of glory appears on “Angels in a Vacuum”, the off the charts brilliant acoustic guitar work coming unexpectedly as if a messenger from above, sweeping keyboard orchestrations where ‘bells begin to chime’, the profoundly impactful lyrics hitting their mark, and that meaty bass elevating the celestial feel. The picking guitar has a clever twang that can only elicit smiles of appreciation, a faultless insertion that speaks volumes of how consummate this musician can be. The acoustic work resumes to finish off the thrill.
A gorgeous and resolute finale and the shortest track here clocking in with 6 and a half minutes, “Goddess Earth” sets the spotlight of the luxuriant voice and elegant piano, recalling an RPWL ballad that once stirred ‘my passion, where there is no pain’. The chorus is gloriously enchanting, crushingly profound and an axe solo drowning in meaning. You cannot afford to miss this ending, as well as the entire album for that matter, surely a 2026 highlight, that will consolidate this artist’s reputation even further in the community. A must listen.
5 raining tunes