Timeless but with an inherent sixties element of George Harrison on a spiritual quest.
Perhaps the spectre too of Brian Jones in gaudy robes.
A tender symphony of elegant suggestions.
This is a sublime collision of cultural styles and timings.
Implications of America and India drift past.
Pictures of deserts on different continents.
Here is a joy to the ears.
There is also a suggestion of old Englishness.
A fading sepia postcard that infers Pentangle, John Renbourn, and Bert Jansch.
Hints align of Canterbury and Laurel Canyon esoterics.
Whispers too of Italian warmth and sunshine amongst forgotten ruins.
Virtuosity in a cohesive yet modest elegance it slinks along with a true sense of where it is going.
The listener is involved in a journey that is fills the mind with a deft and quiet wonder.
A tone poem to bring a cascade of pictures to mind in a nakedly beautiful fashion.
One man in perfect tandem with his creation littered with an endless implication of considered touches.
There are ghosts of elegant dancers with expressively extended fingers.
A poise of grace and an implication of golden adornement and attire.
Brief time for thought and the scent of incense.
Backwards glances whilst looking forward.
Instrumental pieces have largely fallen out of favour.
The fear and need of voices sometimes reigns superfulous.
This studious confection confirms that a thing of beauty may exist alone.
A gift upon the heart.
A mediatation and a form of meditation.
A singular tango between the notes and your soul.
- Rob Cochrane