The latest chapter in the never ending musical output from Neal Morse. Joining forces with Chester Thompson, Phil Keaggy and Byron House, the “prog meets yacht rock meets The Beatles” has a looser and jazzier feel than Morse’s usual Prog outpourings. Maybe even a hint of improvisation in some of the passages too. However, fear not, as a lengthy The Heart Of Life that that Morse hasn’t deviated too far from his roots and the three part Launch Out that’s part of the Deep Water ‘suite’ don’t fall too far from the tree and the common thread of spiritual inspiration is ever but a breath away.

Amidst all the Proggery and unavoidably Morse led crescendos, come lashings of Beatle-y inflections that offer a more direct songwriting alternative to the piling on of instrumental waves. A stark contrast might be more apt, with the funky brightness and sheer joy that the guys are having following the lead set by the signature Neal Morse passion and commitment in the delivery. It’s hard at times not to get caught up in the schmaltz of unlocking the doors to heaven whatever one may feel about the overtly religious direction of some of the lyrical themes.

An interesting diversion and good to hear Chester doing his thing again as well as evidence for Morse drifting onto an ever so slightly different path.

West Country singer-songwriter, Sue Harding takes inspiration from the Tarot – specifically, and not surprisingly, The World – focussing upon their poetry, metaphors and imagery. Completing cycles, moving on, starting again are embodied in a set whose themes skirt the old West, tumbleweed, drawing with curved lines and several references to the sea.

The low key arrangements offer an organic delicacy and fragility. Amidst the intimacy, there are hints of mariachi in the opening Barflies that suggest a varied musical palette might be the order of the day. That comes courtesy of the fiddle that brings a melancholy air to The Bloody Rose and the faint Nebraska-ish harmonica that gives a brooding and haunting quality to The Briar.

Pick of the set could well be Edge Of The Day reconnecting to those close to us in challenging personal and wider circumstances. “It’s not a sad song really,” Sue says, but does a good impression as it builds into a controlled closure.

However, the focus remains firmly on just voice and guitar. Capitano, Icebergs and the relatively sprightly Lady Electra all retain their contemplative and rustic charm that reaffirms the subtly managed moods of joy and survival.

Guitarist Andrea Rinciari, with SOHO SESSIONS, has produced an album reflective of a musical partnership with his quartet of fine musicians, that grew into something very special over a weekly jazz residency in Soho. The album offers a set of striking interpretations of jazz standards, which has evolved these pieces into new and exciting musical settings, bringing out musical aspects that were waiting to be discovered.

The quartet alongside Andrea Rinciari on guitar, includes Alex Garnett on tenor saxophone, Lorenzo Morabito on bass, and drummer Mark Taylor. Highlights on the album include Vincent Youmans and Irving Caesar’s classic show song Tea for Two, here driven by a joyful jazz groove and some intricate soloing on guitar and saxophone, and a dynamic drum break.

Andrea Rinciari’s signature solo interpretation of Jimmy Van Heusen and Johnny Burke’s Polka Dots and Moonbeams is a master class in the creative possibilities of the jazz guitar. An excellent album.

The proverbial ‘long awaited’ debut from Manchester polymmath and chanteuse, Toria Woof. The Folk Rock tag that comes as a convenient term of reference is dispelled with a set that despite the aching presence of the pedal steel of Scott Poley goes way beyond the rolling gait of lonesome Americana and the occasional Floyd spacey-ness.

Opening cut, The Plough puts her in the field dominated by the Gothic melancholy of A.A.Williams and Chelsea Wolfe with nods to a grander production. There is much reference though to her roots of voice and acoustic guitar. The familiarity of the sway of The Waltz Of Winter Hey comes supported by the Country porch visions of Mountains and Author Song (imagining Dolly OP doing this one…) and the haunting drama in The Flood

The presence of Ross Munro’s keyboards and the dashes of strings add the sort of genuine subtlety of blink and you’ll miss them; a quiet and knowing nod to engineering work of James Wyatt.

The debut box ticked, the album delivers the anticipation on all counts with a deliciously lovely course. Press play and loop.

“A journey of self-discovery, shedding
light on the triumphs and tribulations that have molded my perspective.” Not our word, the words of Texan powerhouse Ally Venable on an album that highlights the the transformative power of music.

A relentless stream of ballsy songs that fuse Blues and Soul are packed with an attitude that espouses a powerful and positive philosophy that see her rise to the occasion. Elbowing her way to the front of a pack where her peers, Joanne Shaw Taylor, Samantha Fish and Chantel McGregor, have ploughed a route to stand alongside the likes of Eric Gales and Joe Bonamassa, brace yourselves for a ride. Blues power and girl power ahoy!

The tsunami of Brown Liquor (featuring ATB approved ‘Kingfish’) and more straightforward pure blues of Maybe Some Day set the tone for a series of Rival Sons style riffy outings that’s exemplified by Heal Me and the title track that’s Gallagher-esque in the sneer of “ain’t gonna take it from you.“

Ally is no slouch on the axe either. The searing solos on Do You Cry and Unbreakable put the guitar in the spotlight along with the lashing funk of Stopper Back Poppa that always hints at 70s US cop shows. Mid album lull offers a lighter touch with Legends and Keep Me In Mind

The sixth Venable album is a belter and should give anyone new to the table the [pleasure of discovering the back catalogue. As the song says, feel that sting – and feel the swing.

Sometimes there are days when Lankum or the Shovel Dance Collective seem just so damn predictable in their easy on the ear commercial catchiness. Those are Milkweed days, a duo willing to let you know, “We’re Milkweed, we live in the UK and make experimental folk music.”

 Remscèla follows last year’s Folklore 1979. A rèmscela is a pre-tale, prologue perhaps, and here refers to the Táin Bó Cuailnge, better known as The Tain. This may prick up a memory of Horslips, circa 1973. This is nothing like Horslips.

One description may be an imagining of dub, had it been invented by Brendan Behan in Dublin, 1955, several beverages to the wet. Scratches of instrumentation, often a banjo in its death throes, flicker in and out of focus alongside snippets of speech and airwave interference. G’s voice, when it comes, is subject to distort and delay, only occasionally scything through the backdrop for moments of a searing Radie Peat like lustre. Many of the 10 tracks are short, or half realised fragments, interspersed with longer bursts of near orthodoxy.

As beguilingly beautiful as they are bafflingly bizarre. File under odd (but marvellous).

A good month for the Bluesy female guitar slingers as Samantha Fish gives more reasons to be cheerful with her glam and fizzing version of the Blues. A plethora, nay, embarrassment of riches from the ladies of the Blues is kicking 2025 in with some style and class.

Less Howling Wolf and more modern Blues Rock and Soul, Paper Doll finds her in danger of igniting your music player of choice while asking Can You Handle The Heat? There may even be a smidgeon of swaggering Prince attitood about Lose You in a three minute blast that’s typical of the avoidance of indulgence and focus of darn good songs and playing. Typical too of talking expectation and stereotype and “rebelling against other people’s expectations of who you’re supposed to be.“

The title track indeed is all fire and brimstone taking up the call that pits “how you look with how you’re livin’” with a huge stomper of an arrangement.

That rebellion sees Samantha delving into a atmospheric and cinematic ambience created in the brooding and laid back Off In The Blue and running with the baton with a remotely scary Fortune Teller. The sing/talk of the delivery, a hint of echo and the general density of the mood totally unanticipating the rapid change of pace that explodes from nowhere. All topped off with a cool palette cleansing Don’t Say It, Paper Doll reinforces the electrifying charge carried by Samantha Fish.

A musical partnership born in their local hostelry. What better and more natural way? For a second time, the Radcliffe & Boardman duo don their guitars, call in the occasional collaborator, clear their throats and let loose on some typical two voiced treasures. Art & Paul and The Everles might be mentioned in some breaths, as could the less obvious Milk Carton Kids.

From that preamble it would be a surprise to expect anything but a quietly satisfying set of songs that make astute observations from the duo’s life experiences. Of course, sitting in traffic on Euston Road (“traffic is one of the things I love the most” – really?!) gives plenty of time for contemplation and songwriting. A bit like Beans On Toast but with a little more reverence and calm. Gentle ranting the order of the day accompanied by subtle tumbles of acoustic guitar.

The Long Ridge might sound it’s about to head into a James style romp, but settles for composure over exuberance although a little bravado is on display with the handclappiness and Klezmer hints of At The Bar San Calisto. The latter delivered in a fashion not dissimilar to our pal Guy Garvey. Talking of, Never Had The Last Dance captures a similar melancholy for two voices – maybe lippy kids on the corner – accompanied by a nice little guitar line.

An album that’s not made for chart bothering or to fill arenas or for 5.1 digital atmos mixes, but for two good mates – singing, songwriting, strumming and swigging buddies – to capture a moment in time.