I love an immediately recognisable sense of place in a record. That you're being transported to a Saharan sand dune or a Brazilian swimming pool. Somewhere you'll probably never go to, but that you can experience as richly as if you were there right now just by putting on and listening to a record. Today children, we're going somewhere colder but don't throw your hands up, because trust me you're going to enjoy it, because we've got a really great guide. You'll want to tell mum and dad all about it, when you get back home.
One of my favourite moments in the release calendar in recent years has been when I spot a new Fog Lake record appearing on the schedule.. Aaron Powell, for he is Fog Lake, has been proffering invitations to an arctic horizon for a number of years now. Powell hails from Glovertown, a small rural town in Newfoundland, Canada and boy can you tell from the briefest exposure to his music. It's a blurred and occasionally numb sound, but warming too. Like opening the door to the town's only bar on the coldest night of the year, sitting down, discarding your mittens and warming them in front of the blazing, open fire.
Latest record Midnight Society is a familiar but vital variation on the particular seam Powell is intent on. His life's work, a shelf of records of a certain experience. Every bit as vital in their way as E. Anne Proulx and Anne Tyler's bookshelves. Powell's delivery is whispered and wistful. But he's always intent on extracting the warm moment from the savage landscape and I must say, having listened to his records any number of times he's always excellent company. A master craftsman.
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