Album review: Smoke Fairies – Through Low Light And Trees (V2)

Intoxicating dark Prairie folk hailing from, err, Chichester

It’s often better to do your homework on a band after you listen to their record. Case in point: [a]Smoke Fairies[/a]. They are, it turns out, two women from Chichester, but such an upbringing sounds far less romantic than the biography we’d concocted for them in our mind. Here, the pair are more spirit than flesh; they haunt mid-Western prairies at night, appearing from the ether to strum guitars at bewildered passers-by, who stand transfixed as their otherworldly harmonies emanate from high above. Back in reality, [b]‘Through Low Light And Trees’[/b] reminds us of Midnight Movies (anyone?), or perhaps an acoustic [a]School Of Seven Bells[/a] – with healthy lashings of classic folk, [a]Fairport Convention[/a]-style, and a twist of the blues. At times, it’s too lovely and woozy for its own good – but when the mood sours, as on standouts [b]‘Devil In My Mind’[/b] and [b]‘Erie Lackawanna’[/b], it’s really rather intoxicating stuff.

[b]Rob Webb[/b]