I could never live in the countryside. I don’t mean the kinda countryside-abutting suburbia from whence I DID come, I mean proper countryside, deep countryside, where Amazon Prime does fear to tread and your nearest neighbour is a mile away and is possibly a sheep or your mother or both. Fine during the day, but when night falls… too many Ruth Rendell mysteries on TV when I was a nipper, I think, cos frankly I will forever associate the countryside with MURDER and sheer prickly-palmed DREAD. A Light In The Window Will Guide Us Safely Home?! I just think “Wait, I could’ve sworn I turned off all the lights…”, glimpse a silhouetted figure dart past inside, and promptly shit myself / run for my goddamned life.
As you may or may not know, Little Skull is the solo project of New Zealand native Dean Brown, currently residing in the UK - and sure enough, A Light In The Window... has echoes both of classic shut-in NZ basement zoning, while also reminding me a bit of spooky British bucolia in the vein of, dunno, Plinth’s Wintersongs or Ora / Andrew Chalk, something like that. Brown, while obviously not as terrified of a lil' bit of fresh air as I am, does at least seem attuned to some of the bad energies interred in the landscape, and nature's persistent THREAT (am i projecting again?!)...for all the elegant finger-picking and dazed acid-folk motifs, the defining feature of this subtle but extraordinarily affecting record is its bleak, undulating organ drones which through sheer force of ELDRITCH WOBBLE seem to wanna pull you back into woods, not guide you safely home, sucker. Hope you packed yer thermos!
Edition of 200 in lovely handmade paper-cut, fold-out sleeves.