Leonie Cooper 

Tracks of the week reviewed: Evil, Shirley Collins, Sufjan Stevens

This week we’ve got ethereal banjo-twanging, a British folk blast from the past, and a gracefully subdued protest anthem
  
  


Evil

A Child Shamed

Melding Appalachian roots with wispy cloud rap and crunchy studio glitches, Evil comes over not just as a banjo-twanging pal of Americana disruptor Orville Peck, but more like the Carter Family mixing up a celebratory punchbowl of drank with Yung Lean. Misty and moody, A Child Shamed mercilessly picks apart Evil’s strained relationship with religion and – spoiler alert – religion doesn’t come off too well at all. Soz, God.

Shirley Collins

Sweet Greens and Blues

Found no doubt in a paisley knapsack ’neath a weeping willow, the latest dreamy jig from the grande dame of British folk music was actually written in the 60s. But 50-odd years is a mere trifle to Shirley Collins who, at the ripe age of 85, has finally recorded this cheerily verdant ballad. All changing seasons and jaunty fiddle solos, we want nothing more than to listen to it lying naked in a meadow while eating wild strawberries with a ruddy-faced woodland sprite.

Charley Crockett

Run Horse Run

Thigh-slapping and whip-cracking, Charley Crockett’s brand of pedal steel-driven, old-school country swings with all the doomy force of the soundtrack to a lost spaghetti western. Vintage without being dusty, and meaner than John Wayne after he’s just stubbed his toe, Run Horse Run is one tasty lump of sugar.

Love Regenerator & Steve Lacy

Live Without Your Love

A Love Regenerator isn’t something you plug into the socket by your bed to give your sex drive a boost, but rather Calvin Harris in disguise as a respected house DJ. This might just be his least aggrieving moment yet, with a perfect piano house and gospel break and the Internet’s always charming Steve Lacy on effortlessly soulful vocal duty.

Sufjan Stevens

America

At 12-and-a-half minutes long, America is a gracefully frustrated protest anthem that sounds like someone unravelling. Multi-tracking his symphonic, elegiac rage, Sufjan Stevens manages to morph into a very pissed-off Crosby, Stills and Nash while presiding over the rest of the sprawling song’s just-about-controlled mayhem.

 

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