I came across both Alex Neilson and Richard Youngs, separately, via Alasdair Roberts. Richard Youngs supported Alasdair at his 2005 Cecil Sharp House gig — I've seen him once or twice since, and he's been a cover star for The Wire. The first time I remember seeing Alex Neilson was when he joined Alasdair on stage at the Spitz last September to help him sing a song (it might have been The Burning of Auchindoun, but I can't remember for sure).
Anyway, I picked this up at a gig in Brixton in March where Alex was playing in the wonderful duo, Directing Hand — more about them another time.
I'm sure that, in one of my collection of introspective and slightly morose moods, this album would hit the spot precisely. I just haven't found the right mood yet.
I played it one time to wake the Boy when it was time for one of his feeds. I don't think it was the most comfortable awakening. But 25 minutes later he seemed quite at peace with track 3, Prime Thunder, which older ears would find the most challenging of listens. But what if, in decades to come, he reads this and blames me for his digestive problems?
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