If you are searching for a European equivalent of the twisted folk and understated eccentricity of New Weird America then Scotland is the obvious choice.
Here you will find the underground mecca of David Keenan's Volcanic Tongue Records in Glasgow as well as the more gentile refrains of Fife's 'Fence Community' headed up by King Creosite and James Yorkston. These exemplify a country which can boast both a proud folk tradition and passionate spirit of adventure all underscored and enriched by the ubiquitous and atmospheric drone.
Scotland's capital city can now convincingly claim to be part of this elite scene thanks to the Fife Kills collective housed in a disused Edinburgh church. More specifically they can drop the name of Rob St John, a remarkable young singer songwriter who, although born in Lancashire, has wisely relocated to this active support network North of the Border.
The ripple effect of this name may, as yet, not be immediate but, if the talents displayed on this superb EP are anything to go by, they will not be long in coming.
The three songs showcased here are absolute gems.
In each, St John's gentle voice and acoustic guitar are gracefully augmented by the gorgeous cello playing of Andrew Mallarkey and Louise Martin on musical saw. The meticulous arrangements give the songs a warm and delicate flow to them.
St John's use of language is stylistically similar to that of Iron & Wine's Sam Beam or Joanna Newsom where nature is represented in strongly visual and sensual terms. The words are sung in such a hushed tone that they are hard to catch, but it's well worth listening with a lyric sheet in hand. By doing so you will discover beautifully evocative, yet mysterious, lines such as those at the end of the title track:
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"a certain delicate refrain / a fine splinter cracking, a keening embrace / for love's sweet refuge, until the weather breaks.
St John also has an endearing fondness for unconventional, even vaguely archaic adjectives as on Wooden Rose where a stream is described firstly as "spooling" and then later as "parched".
Even in 'The Acid Test' where simpler words are used, the meaning is left open, leaving the listener to speculate who is speaking of the impossibility of change and whether the repeated line : "I am no slow burner, but I am no fast runner" should be regarded as autobiographical or not.
Rob St John wryly calls this conscious use of literary devices "librarian pop for the leafy gent".
Since only 100 copies of this EP were pressed, the chances of locating a copy are slim but they can be heard of his My Space site [www.myspace.com/robstjohn]
Rob St John is not yet 21, so it is to be hoped that these are just tasters of further riches to come.
I, for one, can't wait.
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