“If you’re expecting slices of power-punk-pop, then think again” says Rick McMurray, drummer with Ash. Rick’s debut self-titled Burned As Witches album is pretty much shaped by a combo of Rick’s love of Led Zeppelin swagger and Black Sabbath doom (“the bastard child of Iommi and Page”) and provides a alternative to the day job that’s a as much a catharsis as it is tribute to his close friend Steve Strange.

Bursting with hefty scuzzy riffs, raw solos and bone crunching chords, the intensity is primal. Scapegoats sets the tone perfectly; all of the above plus overloaded with a swing and swagger atop the weighty doom and a lyrical darkness. For a nostalgic nod to the classic Rock of the genre-forging masters, check the opening passage to Pay The Ferry…just missing an Ozzy styled whine.

Tempos are relaxed and leaden but the brief diversion into sombre acoustic territory for A Spartan Mass is merely a prelude to the epic curtain call in To The Sky (akin to the …’scuse me while I kiss…variety). Weighty stuf findeed, but an inspirational outpouring.

Second album for an increasingly inventive and potent duo whose collaborative musical empathy results in compositions of carefully crafted subtlety. Eleven pieces offer a selection of stories, evocations, musings and (given Hannah’s background) dances on the theme of belonging.

The rich cello sounds emanating from Toby Kuhn’s playing form a canvas on which Hannah adds a balance of nuances and decorations be it in the form of vocal, accordion or pattering of foot percussion.

Cats, chickens (very proud orange chickens…), friends, inspirational biologists and the Slovenian lake-woman as well as more personal reflections on love and motherhood are amongst the inspirations for a set that offers a delicacy that’s balanced with the off piste Chicken or rubbery cello explorations in The Weaver.

The pairing of Soft Edges and Into The Light might be more in keeping with expectations, yet the velvet lushness issues a soothing warmth in contrast to the minimalism on Forest and the jaunty bounce created on Upstairs At The Star. Never anything less than interesting or intriguing.

Always interesting to hear ‘progressive’ music from different parts of the world to compare with the good old British flagbearers.

Philosophical themes lie at he core of Primal Repetition – who we are, how we change, and whether healing means moving forward or learning to return differently. what we try to leave behind and what inevitably returns as part of a recurring cycle.

The lush and widescreen opening of The Same River which picks up connections that transcend time and memory, all the way to the existential closing of Where Do We Go, the layers and washes of atmosphere underlie a key songcrafting with Ani Guillén’s easy on the ear vocals offering a cascade of seductive melodies.

Crossroads introduces dramatic elements with more intricate time signatures and moods getting tested, while Mountains spotlights their songwriting nous. Another melodic treasure, Ebb & Flow earns the attentions of Haken’s Ross Jennings in an acknowledgement of sorts of Latin American Prog. A set with an overload of nimble playing over short sharp bursts. One might only imagine or anticipate Argovia really going for it.

Enjoying a fruitful Indian Summer, recent live encounters with Tyketto have been just as enjoyable as re-engaging with their back catalogue. Not only, but also, a new album that hits an immediate bull in the prophetic Higher Than High as Danny Vaughn and the gang expound on true life loves, losses and pleasures.

Throughout Closer To The Sun, Tyketto speak to the listener about true life loves, losses and pleasures. Anthems aplenty, Tyketto’s Their “We rise, we fall, but we give it our all” sits alongside “We fall, we rise, we open our eyes” and a plethora of impossible to shake off hooks, Harry Scott Elliot’s meticulous guitar solos and uplifting melodies.

Aside from the feel good outpourings from the that begin with the title track, Far And Away namechecks distant towers and spires, acknowledging the ties; Donnowhuddidis swings with the ‘feel alright’ lyric being spot on and a tougher touch gets the nod on Hit Me Where It Hurts before the inevitable power balladeering on The Picture.

No longer the need to mourn Bon Jovi, Whitesnake and Aerosmith, Tyketto have come up with the goods on the sort of album that inspires the rising tide and gives uplifting melodic AOR/MOR a good name.

“I’ve always wanted to make work that’s a reflection of my life experience,” says James Petralli of White Denim’s thirteenth album. “The just-below-the surface significance to 13 as an album is that I was born on the thirteenth of August. 13’in numerology can signify independence, creativity and a solid foundation but, inversely, is often considered to be unlucky and can signify chaos and misfortune. Like everyone, I can see both sides in my life.”

13 is an album of mind-dazzling variation and the influences flow thick and fast. Strains of Beefheart are detectable in opening track (God Created) Lock and Key, whilst the spirit of Scritti Politti is alive and well in the synth-soaked Only a Fool. Look closer and you’ll taste the presence of King Tubby, John Cale and Stevies Wonder and Winwood and more.

The variety of genre on display is as wide as the range of influences, with rock, funk, dub, soul, blues and much, much more all taking a turn.

“Music has given me a place and purpose in this world,” concludes Petralli. “And it’s been the primary way I’ve connected with other people over the years.” 13 proves that Petralli continues to do so. And in imperious style.

When you see the sleeve notes thank the Bert Jansch Foundation for their support in the making of this record, it is far from random, as it is very much the ghost of that man that haunts this record. And yes, you’d be right to suppose that we are in the terroir of densely picked guitars and huskily burred vocals, but, rather than any slavish attempt to codify and copy, Grassie more picks up much where Jansch laid off, and runs, unbridled by overmuch sentiment.

12 tracks, some instrumental, some with vocals, with a scattering of like-minded accompanists tipping in on double bass, flute, clarsach and similar, with an occasional backing vocal to boot. The songs have all some tenure, however loose, to Scotland, Grassie’s birthplace, and are drawn largely from the tradition. (One is a totally original new song, and many of the old songs have newly written tunes.)

Highlights are his Scots take on Irish murder ballad, Put The Blood and a fiery Burning Of Auchindern, as different as can be from the version by The Magpie Arc. Sandalwood has some deftly flowing guitar which, with his vocal, smacks more of Jackson C. Frank, whilst False True Love has a dense folk wyrd about it, with all manner of layers rippling through it.

Definitely one to file under moreish.

Edinburgh’s Wayward Jane are possibly one of the premier stringbands in the country, that transatlantic brand of acoustic music with a footfall somewhere between folk and bluegrass. With an altogether gentler rhythm and pace to the latter, it is carried by much the same instrumentation. By virtue their provenance, this side of the band, the Janes add in homegrown textures from the Scottish tradition, first time around, so to speak.

Opening with some desultory waves of picked and plucked strings, together with some quavery vocals, initially solo, then in harmony, it is a good start. Nominally a quartet of Dan Abrahams, Sam Gillespie, Rachel Petyt and Michael Starkey, for this track and much the album, they are augmented by Tara Cunningham, Pepita Emmerichs and Graeme Young. This means that, at any one time, there can be up to 3 fiddles playing, various guitars, mandolins and banjos, harmonium, double bass and all 7 voices. That’s quite a barrage.

All but one, a cover of Ola Belle Reed’s I’ve Endured, are originals, if sticking firmly to the template chosen. Soul Journey is an ode to Gillian Welch, clearly an inspiration and touchstone. Closing track, Old Time Sound sees the core original band, Rachel, Sam, Dan and Michael trade vocals, all the more poignantly given that this release is Sam Gillespie’s swansong with the band.