Cerca:comus

Cambridge’s acclaimed psych-folk quintet Fuzzy Lights return with their fifth album ‘Fen Creatures’. Following on from 2021’s critically lauded ‘Burials’ the band have created their most conceptually focussed work to date – a mediation on environmental crises that uses the folklore and history of East Anglia as a lens to examine humanity’s fractured relationship with the natural world.

The album operates across multiple historical timelines, from Iron Age hill forts to medieval plague houses, from Byron's Romantic-era environmental warnings to the immediate threat of rising sea levels, creating a temporal tapestry that weaves ancient stories with contemporary concerns.

Musically, the quintet, Rachel Watkins (vocals/violin), Xavier Watkins (guitar/electronics), Chris Rogers (guitar), Daniel Carney (bass), and Mark Blay (drums), have pushed deeper into experimental drone territories while maintaining the crystalline folk sensibilities that have become their signature.

Lead track ‘Greenteeth transforms the traditional cautionary tale of Jenny Greenteeth, the water spirit who lures children to their deaths. "When I read this story to my daughter, she was instantly drawn into it," Watkins notes. "There's something timeless about these tales and the way they speak to fundamental fears and connections that span generations."

Elsewhere, 'War Ditches' imagines the Iron Age dead of a Cambridge hill fort keeping watch over the land, their vigil ending as modern people lose connection with the earth. 'The Promise' creates an imaginary encounter with the ghosts of Landbeach village across multiple eras, connecting the 1665 plague with our recent pandemic experience through shared narratives of community resilience and loss.

Critics praised ‘Burials’ as "way beyond folk and folk in essence all at once" (Backseat Mafia) and "folk-rock looking back squarely at the early 1970s" (Financial Times), and 'Fen Creatures' promises to cement Fuzzy Lights' reputation as one of Britain's most vital contemporary folk acts. The album positions them firmly within the lineage of artists like Fairport Convention, Trees, and Comus who understood that engaging with tradition isn't nostalgic escapism, but a way of accessing older wisdoms about how to live in the world.

‘Burials’ press:

“...the musical battle between the fuzzy and the light makes Fuzzy Lights special.” MOJO ★★★★
“...a simmering, sinister undercurrent which often explodes with apocalyptic fervour.” SHINDIG ★★★★
“...subverting genre expectations and folk melodies.” FINANCIAL TIMES ★★★★
“Way beyond folk and folk in essence all at once, it's a record that’ll bring you much reward.” BACKSEATMAFIA - 8.3/10
“a genuine delight....a stirring and unsettling listen, goosebumps adding to the pleasure of timeless music played well, with perfect precision. Don’t leave it another eight years, eh?” FOLK RADIO
“...re-inventing the folk-rock playbook and dragging it screaming through an array of influences...Fuzzy Lights’ most unique, reflective and ambitious record to date” FOR THE RABBITS

For many bands, having all their gear stolen would be catastrophic. For Third Ear Band, this unfortunate 1968 incident opened a portal to beneficial change. Leader/percussionist Glen Sweeney viewed the heist as a sign to alter Third Ear Band's approach, and they switched to exclusively using acoustic instruments. With electrified psychedelia in full bloom, Sweeney, Paul Minns (oboe, recorder, whistles, flutes) and Richard Coff (violin, viola) struck out on an individualistic path, blending Indian raga with chamber music – without plugging in.

Third Ear Band's 1969 debut album, Alchemy, established them as a solemn, powerful force in the global underground. On Alchemy, Sweeney laid down a steady pulse on hand drums, while Minns and Coff wove in melismatic patterns on oboe, recorder, violin and viola. This approach carried over to Third Ear Band's self-titled sophomore album, often called Elements due to its track titles being named after the four basic components of medieval European alchemists' doctrines.

On this 1970 LP, Third Ear Band sounded at once ancient and contemporary, yet they turned on the hippies with their epic, trance-inducing jams that suggested secret knowledge of infinity. Although Third Ear Band flourished during the West's countercultural zenith, they were peculiarly estranged from it on a sonic level. Even outré contemporaries such as Comus and Jan Dukes De Grey sounded like pop groups compared to TEB. Having no traditional front person or electric instruments, Third Ear Band forged a singular path that flowered most vividly on Elements.

The long songs here stream forth from their skilled hands, evoking a communal transcendence in sound – a hypnotic swirl that doesn't swing, but rather wafts and undulates with cloistered beauty. TEB's music exists in an eternal now, a perpetual wow. It is an ouroboros of organic textures, seemingly magicked into the air spontaneously, yet possessing a rigor that suggests long hours in the lab. Without electricity, it somehow burrowed deeper into your consciousness.

– Dave Segal (excerpt from the liner notes)

Compiled by Bob Stanley to document the acid folk scene, “Gather In The Mushrooms” was first issued in 2004 on Sanctuary as a CD-only release; it proved popular enough for a sequel entitled “Early Morning Hush” two years later.

This new edition of “Gather In The Mushrooms” contains the cream of both long-deleted compilations with a few additions – COB, Roy Harper, Fotheringay – that weren’t available to Sanctuary at the time. Though they aren’t traditional, these songs have an authenticity of their own, an autumnal atmosphere and a naivety which proved influential in the 00s neo-folk boom (Devendra Banhart, Joanna Newsom, Alasdair Roberts, Tuung et al) but impossible to replicate. For many of these acts at the end of the 60s, folk music and the hippy world that surrounded them was a way of life, a way of opting out from the Vietnam war, Angry Brigade and three-day-week early 70s. Anne Briggs lived in a caravan in Suffolk, Shelagh McDonald lived in a tent, Vashti Bunyan eschewed electricity; they weren’t part-timers. Listening to “Gather In The Mushrooms”, we are transported to a time when no one used the term post-modernist.

It may not have resonated with dyed-in-the wool political folkies, but over five decades later this music sounds very evocative of an England of yore – not necessarily one of poachers and pedlars, but one of long-haired youths in tie-dye T-shirts, bikers and hippies, acoustic guitars played in white stone cottages. Groups such as Stone Angel, Midwinter and Oberon made primitive, privately recorded folk albums; today they sound as distant and mystical as the field recordings of Alan Lomax. The sincerity and folk knowledge of a group like Forest becomes irrelevant once you hear something as eerie and evocative as ‘Graveyard’. Home-made, homely, warm as soup or chilling as a hoar frost, this is music of innocence and rare beauty.

Originally released in 1970 and housed in a cover designed by Roger Wootton of Comus.

In pairing words with art, the ESP Institute often does everything journalists hate. We drown the reader in hyperbole, abstractions as opposed to didactic or literal depictions, and paint the press release with superlatives that construct an existential struggle around the art and its conditions. To articulate our reasoning behind collaborating with the artist, or the synergy between their work and our catalogue, is sometimes so challenging that crossing that finish line is achingly delayed. Patrick Conway’s 2xLP 'Cellular Housekeeping', his fourth release with the label, is one of these works so monumentally exciting for us that we’ve strained over how to deliver with honor his art unto the masses. After the initial hurdle of visual representation (in this case handled with gusto by artist Hassan Rahim), how do we directly and intentionally talk about the art we deeply love, when in reality we’re largely guided by instinct? We explore many angles, often failing along the way, until finding a final click in the combination that unlocks the floodgates. With Patrick’s album, that elusive impetus revealed itself in a literary gem that both symbolized his aggressive, melancholic, romantic, and bleak overtones, as well as synchronized his work and our task with a metaphor so grand it justified putting these words to paper. In the deeply British poem of despair and hope, 'Comus: A Mask Presented at Ludlow Castle', John Milton immortalized the classic idiom of the “silver lining”, and we find comfort in this transaction between struggle and what the poet considered divine intervention. Our bout of procrastination that brewed a cloud over the art may too tout a silver lining, the time that’s elapsed clearing a path for the album to exist in its rightful place, as opposed to fighting for a voice at an overcrowded table. In hindsight, this final hurdle might have only existed because without it, there is no glory, no resolution, but as all the pieces click and we collectively cross the finish line, Patrick Conway’s once captive 'Cellular Housekeeping' is now truly released.

“It’s about hopelessness and darkness,” says Aidan Moffat. “But in a fun way.” The Arab Strap frontman is speaking about the band’s 7th studio album and their first since 2005’s ‘The Last Romance’.
The band’s exciting return saw the much lauded
‘The Turning of Our Bones’ single achieve Record Of The Week on Jo Whiley’s BBC Radio 2 show and hit the B-list at BB6Music.
The new album will appeal to longtime fans and pick up new ones who weren’t ready for Arab Strap first time ‘round.
LP contains postcard with digital download code.