
RM Hubbert first came to my attention via my good friend Graham who had seen him play in support of Aidan Moffat and Bill Wells in Copenhagen. He pointed me at the fine ‘First & Last’ album; an accessible yet complex and challenging set of guitar instrumentals. Perhaps I should have known about Hubbert through his work with Glasgow post-rockers El Hombre Trajeado and indeed it’s possible I did. Their 1999 ‘Shoplift’ EP spins as I write this and sounds strangely familiar. Perhaps the Appliance lads played this for me all those years ago. It is too long ago to remember.
Whatever, the new ‘Thirteen Lost & Found’ collection on the legendary Chemikal Underground label sees Hubbert hook up with a range of friends as collaborators, and it is stranger and stronger still. There is a gorgeous track that shows off Aidan Moffat’s unparalleled storytelling skills, to which Hubbert’s intricate yet restrained picking is as eloquently suited as Bill Wells’ instruments on last year’s ‘Everything’s Getting Older’ triumph. Another highlight is ‘Gus Am Bris An Latha’ with John Ferguson on banjo. It’s a beautiful number that resonates with the spirit of the Western Isles and is for me the best of the instrumental pieces on the record.
Elsewhere, well, I could pass on the collaboration with Marion Kenny & Hanna Tuulikki, and Alasdair Roberts never did float my boat, but such is often the nature of pick and mixes like this. Everyone has a different opinion on the coffee cream after all.
The choicest selection for me then is the appropriately titled ‘Half Light’, on which the always wonderful Emma Pollock turns in a typically affecting vocal performance over a beguilingly bleak backing provided by Hubbert and Rafe Fitzpatrick. It’s all icicles and chilling air winding around dying embers; a perfect February moment.
Now it frankly shocks me to realise it is nearly eight years since I came across Tibi Lubin. When Joe Foster unveiled their ‘I Don’t See You As A Dead Girl’ collection I wrote that they joined lines between the likes of Claudine Longet, Slumber Party, Marine Girls and Young Marble Giants. Given that My Lady of Clouds is effectively former Tibi Lubin singer songwriter Katie Stewart in solo mode, its no surprise then that I once again summon the spirit of those greats to help pin down ‘Your Name in Secret I Would Write’. It really is a lovely contemporary folk pop album, blessed with simple strums and such a charming vocal delivery that is both deliciously warm and cooly distanced in the same breath. The splendid cover of Jean Ritchie’s ‘Now Is The Cool Of The Day’ gives you an idea of where Stewart is coming from, but it’s on her own numbers where she really flourishes. So for example there’s a six minute tale of an encounter with a firefly sent by Orpheus that’s as strange and strangely beautiful as anything by Joanna Newsom. Or what about a playful pop moment that makes reference to the Sufi poet Rumi whilst musing on body language? Not that you need to be a well-read intellectual to enjoy this album. The fact that it has been working its way into the corners of my heart is surely proof of that.