Lately there’s been a deluge of vaguely folky bedroom singer-songwriters who mangle their gems together amidst a structure of beaty electronics, usually either with an electroey or dubsteppy spin.
It’s either in the wake of, or in spite of, Ellie Goulding. I can’t decide.
This David’s Lyre chap kinda reminds me of a male, early-doors Ellie, what with his whispy folkisms, his glitchy twists and his non-descript hoodie and duvet get-up.
Not at all sure about this whole highwayman mask buisiness though, mind.