ROBERT'S PAGE OF MONTHLY REVIEWS 

SPIROGYRA : Folk-Prog’s Hidden Gem

Written by Robert

There’s a peculiar magic in albums that feel like they’ve been crafted in a parallel universe. Spirogyra’s Bells, Boots and Shambles (1973) is one such creation - a haunting, fragile masterpiece that teeters on the edge of the folk-prog abyss, threatening to tumble into obscurity but somehow clinging to a strange and enduring beauty.

The Good: A Dark Pastoral Elegy

From the opening notes of “The Furthest Point,” it’s clear that Bells, Boots and Shambles isn’t here to coddle it's listeners. 

The track is a sprawling, melancholic journey, with Martin Cockerham’s plaintive vocals painting a picture of longing and despair. Barbara Gaskin’s harmonies float above the arrangements like mist over a moor, adding an otherworldly quality that’s both comforting and unsettling.

In the Western World” is the album’s magnum opus, an ambitious suite that moves through various moods and textures with a theatrical flair. 

It’s a bold piece, full of unexpected shifts and poignant moments. The interplay between Cockerham’s acoustic guitar and Julian Cusack’s violin is particularly striking, creating an atmosphere that feels both intimate and grand. It’s as though the band has invited you to witness a private performance in a crumbling cathedral.

The Quirky: Poetry Meets Mystery

Cockerham’s lyrics on this album are as enigmatic as ever, veering between poetic brilliance and outright obscurity. Lines like “the sky is full of broken glass” (from “Old Boot Wine”) invite interpretation but resist easy answers. It’s as if the band is challenging you to engage with their world on a deeper level, to decipher the coded messages hidden within their songs. Yet, for all it's mystery, there’s a raw emotional core to the album. Tracks like “Parallel Lines Never Separate” and “An Everyday Consumption Song” are steeped in a quiet despair that feels achingly human. They’re not just songs - they’re confessions, whispered in the dark.

The Odd: A Beautiful Fragmentation

If there’s one criticism to be made of Bells, Boots and Shambles, it’s that the album occasionally feels like it’s pulling in too many directions at once. The transitions within “In the Western World,” while ambitious, can feel jarring, as though the band is trying to cram an entire opera into a single track. Similarly, the minimalist arrangements of some songs might leave modern listeners craving a bit more sonic depth. But this fragmentation is also part of the album’s charm. It’s imperfect, yes, but those imperfections make it feel alive. There’s a sense that the band was reaching for something just out of their grasp, and that striving gives the music an emotional weight that polished perfection could never achieve.

My Verdict: A Hidden Treasure

Bells, Boots and Shambles is not an easy album, nor is it one that will appeal to everyone. But for those willing to embrace its quirks and delve into its depths, it offers a listening experience like no other. It’s an album that feels like it was made for rainy afternoons and quiet contemplation, a soundtrack for moments of introspection and melancholy.

Spirogyra may have faded into relative obscurity after this release, but Bells, Boots and Shambles stands as a testament to their artistry. It’s a swansong that refuses to go quietly, lingering in the mind long after the final notes have faded. If you’re a fan of folk-prog - or just curious about what happens when ambition meets vulnerability - this is an album worth discovering.

Spirogyra was a British progressive folk band formed in 1967 in Canterbury. Known for their distinctive blend of poetic lyrics, acoustic instrumentation, and classical influences, they carved a niche within the folk-prog scene. The core members included Martin Cockerham (vocals, guitar), Barbara Gaskin (vocals), Julian Cusack (violin), and Steve Borrill (bass).

Their music was characterised by its haunting melodies, intricate arrangements, and a balance of male and female vocals. Despite limited commercial success, albums like St. Radigunds (1971) and Bells, Boots and Shambles (1973) gained a cult following for their emotional depth and innovative approach. Spirogyra’s work remains a hidden gem for fans of progressive and folk music alike.

JUST ANOTHER DIAMOND DAY : Vashti Bunyan

Written by Robert

Listening to Vashti Bunyan’s Just Another Diamond Day is like stepping into a whimsical painting where every brushstroke is made of mist, wildflowers, and the occasional baaing sheep. It’s an album that feels less like a collection of songs and more like a gentle hug from the English countryside itself.

Released in 1970, long before anyone had coined the term ‘cottagecore,’ Just Another Diamond Day is a love letter to a simpler life - one of horse-drawn wagons, dew-soaked meadows, and a complete absence of Wi-Fi. It’s almost painfully idyllic, but somehow it never tips into twee territory. Instead, it invites you to leave behind the chaos of modern life and revel in a world where the biggest worry might be whether your horse fancies a bit of a nap.

Vashti’s voice is the star here, and what a voice it is. Delicate, unassuming, and as soft as the clouds that surely inspired it, her singing is less a performance and more a conversation. She doesn’t so much demand your attention as quietly request it, like a friend offering you a cup of tea and a biscuit.

The title track, Diamond Day, is a standout, with its lilting melody and lyrics that make you want to quit your job, buy a wagon, and head for the hills. But it’s not all sunshine and frolics. Tracks like Glow Worms and Rose Hip November bring a wistful edge to the pastoral dream, reminding us that even the most picturesque landscapes have their shadows.

The instrumentation, featuring contributions from folk royalty like Dave Swarbrick, is understated yet exquisite. The arrangements are as light and airy as a summer breeze, with flutes, strings, and the occasional plucky banjo weaving together a sonic tapestry that feels timeless.

Now, let’s be honest: this album isn’t for everyone. If your idea of a good time involves headbanging or songs about heartbreak in a nightclub, Just Another Diamond Day might leave you scratching your head. But for those of us who occasionally fantasise about running away to a hobbit hole, it’s pure bliss.

Of course, the humour lies in its earnestness. Who among us hasn’t wanted to be as carefree as Vashti seems here, singing about the joys of milk churns and willow trees? And yet, there’s something deeply subversive about how unapologetically gentle this album is. In a world that prizes big, bold statements, Just Another Diamond Day whispers, “Let’s just be quiet for a while, shall we?”

In the end, the album’s charm lies in its ability to transport you. It’s not just music; it’s a holiday for your soul. So, pop it on, pour yourself a cup of something warm, and let Vashti Bunyan remind you that sometimes, the best adventures are the ones where you never leave the garden.

Vashti Bunyan (born 19 March 1945, Newcastle upon Tyne) is a British folk singer-songwriter celebrated for her ethereal voice and pastoral themes. Initially discovered by Rolling Stones manager Andrew Loog Oldham, she released the single Some Things Just Stick in Your Mind in 1965, but her early pop career failed to take off.

Disillusioned with the music industry, Vashti embraced a nomadic lifestyle, travelling across Britain by horse-drawn wagon, a journey that inspired her 1970 debut album, Just Another Diamond Day. Produced by Joe Boyd and featuring contributions from folk luminaries, the album was a commercial failure at the time but later gained cult status as a lost classic of British folk.

After retiring from music for over three decades, Vashti was rediscovered in the early 2000s and released two acclaimed albums, Lookaftering (2005) and Heartleap (2014). Her work has influenced a new generation of artists, cementing her legacy as a unique and enduring voice in folk music.