This is my rifle. There are many like it but this is my rifle. An odd way to start a review of an album perhaps but you have to start somewhere and a metaphor often helps. Rob St John easily fits in to the mould of the tortured neo folkster and his album "Weald" likewise finds itself wandering in a forest of similarly melancholic offerings.
That's not to say that, as an album, "Weald" does not have its own appeal but the very introversion that is at its core proves something of a limitation. Paced at a gentle stroll, it seems therefore that the mists were never really meant to lift as this collection of curiously lyrical songs avoids all the obvious ways of attracting attention in favour of an understated, and ultimately successful, attempt at creating an atmosphere quite unlike our own brightly coloured reality. The songs seem to merge – "Acid Test" crosses into "Stainforth Force" without seeming to pause for breath, for example – and duly they create something akin to an organic hybrid between the classical sonata form and modern day ambient electronica with Rob St. John's voice less the lead than an instrument in itself.
Talking of Rob St John's voice, it is indeed non-standard, and something of an acquired taste, but nonetheless possesses a convincing poetic quality that fits his words rather better than his music. No doubt many will never acquire the taste for the ways of this tortured neo folkster but those that do will find much of meaning here.
Available on vinyl from the Songs, by Toad website.