James Yorkston and The Athletes

ganglesprocket's picture
What's it called?: 
I Was A Cat From A Book
What does it sound like?: 
Imagine being in a cottage in Pittenween on the East Neuk Of Fife. It's late, it's raining. You've been up the hills. A log fire is on. You have a good single malt and a warm inner glow. You are throwing occasional glances at your significant other, but you are musing on both joys and sorrows. This album sounds exactly like that. This is a more melancholy and occasionally angry album than is normal for James Yorkston, he's had a rough few years and he sings about it, but it remains recognizably his work. The warm voice is in place, the completely excellent and dynamic arrangements are as imaginative as ever. No accoustic performer mananges to make music as dynamic as he does nowadays. This album is "more of the same except better," he hasn't reinvented the wheel, but this is no criticism. Some artists you just want to quietly get better, without changing. For ten years James Yorkston has done exactly that.
What does it all *mean*?: 
I wish that James Yorkston would get picked up by Jools Holland. When so many accoustic mediocrities become hugely successful after an appearance on that programme, there is no one more worthy of Later patronage than him.
Goes well with …: 
The single malt, log fire, cottage and significant other already mentioned.
Might suit people who like …: 
John Martyn, Nick Drake, Sandy Denny and all of that sort of thing. He really is that good.

Comments

for my significant other last week.

We plan to listen to it over the weekend, I will pack the Ardberg.

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