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Best Folk Music Blog & Promotion

Troubadour of political folk tragedies, Ken Newman, soulfully sirened whiskey-soaked truth in ‘Who Are the Bad Guys’

When Ken Newman sings, he mesmerises. You could hear a pin drop from the next room when you absorb yourself into his humble masterstrokes, and his latest single, Who Are the Bad Guys, carries that same arresting emotional gravity. Across Latin-inspired, finger-picked acoustic guitar, within a warm, timbre-rich production, he summons poetic introspective wisdom into the accordant atmosphere.

His life-worn, whiskey-soaked vocals evoke the same sensations as listening to Cat Stevens, Tom Waits and Townes Van Zandt, yet Newman’s phrasing belongs entirely to his own weathered conscience. Originally from San Francisco and now based much of the year in Zihuatanejo, he brings decades of storytelling, performance and creative direction into a song that examines power, inequality, propaganda and complicity with a steady hand.

Newman is one of the most criminally underrated political troubadours of our time. Socio-political tragedy finds devastating resonance through his voice, because he allows ambiguity, empathy and discomfort to alchemise. Instead of flattening the subject into sloganism, he lets the lyric turn the lens towards the systems around us and the parts of ourselves that keep them standing.

With the moral gravity of Leonard Cohen, the folk lineage of Bob Dylan and the atmospheric darkness of New Model Army, Who Are the Bad Guys cuts deep.

Who Are the Bad Guys is now available to stream on all major platforms, including Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

8udDha bl0od’s m00n1!ght3r Is Ethereal Psychedelic Neo-Folk Planted in a Lush Forest of Sound

https://soundcloud.com/william-orpen/divine-divinity?ref=clipboard&p=i&c=1&si=075C90CEB238416D93BACFBA16BCFC81&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

8udDha bl0od’s talent is resonating on a whole new frequency in their ethereal psychedelic neo-folk single, m00n1!ght3r. Following a prelude that conjures the kind of air you would expect to breathe while participating in an ancient ritual, the Wicker Man’s aural aesthetics continue through the experimental production as it splices spacey synthesisers with acoustic instrumentation.

Diaphanous whispered vocals drift in and out of the single in the form of a semi-lucid echo, finding the intersection between neo-folk and shoegaze. Instead of leaning on distortion as a shortcut to transcendence, m00n1!ght3r plants a lush forest of sound, designed to take you higher than an ayahuasca ceremony. Every texture feels moss-covered and moon-dazed yet the track retains enough melodic clarity to keep the spell accessible.

Safe to say, the Brighton-based, restlessly prolific artist has struck to the core of our heartstrings and rhythmic centres once again. They’ll never cease to amaze when they’re breeding intimacy into arcane aural mysticism.

m00n1!ght3r is now available to stream on all major platforms, including SoundCloud.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Doomscroll Rodeo: Sam Carlson’s On My Phone (and I Missed It) Is Honkytonk Americana for the App-Trapped Age

Honkytonk breached the 21st century through Sam Carlson’s tragically relatable latest single, On My Phone (and I Missed It). If the twangy Americana earworm didn’t carry its cheeky quintessential charm, it would probably send everyone who hears it into an existential spiral once they realise how much of life has slipped by as they were staring into the architecture of time-stealing apps.

Somewhere between satirical, observational and confessional lyricality, On My Phone (and I Missed It) resounds as the ultimate sign of our mind-frayed times, as Carlson squares up to his digital addiction with enough jovial barroom levity to keep the sermon from becoming sanctimonious. The track has that rare old-country knack of making a joke land first, then letting the punchline brew into uncomfortably potent truth.

Written in Key West with local poet laureate Tortuga Jack Hackett, an 80-year-old kayak guide with ties to Shel Silverstein, the single carries the spirit of folk humour passed through a modern malaise. Updating the premise of Silverstein’s I Was Stoned and I Missed It for the age of phones gives Carlson a perfect vehicle for his plainspoken wit.

With a ten-track album, Any Minute Now, planned for vinyl later this year, and 500 vinyl copies already sold of 2024’s The Second Hand without online promotion, Carlson clearly knows how to reach listeners beyond the algorithm.

On My Phone (and I Missed It) is now available to stream on all major platforms, including Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Patient by Tom Will Morris Rendered Rain-Streaked Reconciliation into Cinematic Acoustic Pop

Tom Will Morris has been lauded for his impressive vocal range and style by critics, but you won’t need a golden ear to hear that he carries a depth and distinction in his vocal melodies; you’ll feel the resonance of the emotion slip under your skin and swell through your soul. His latest single, Patient, lulls you into a peacefully pensive state as an arcane aura wraps around the soft acoustic guitar notes. There’s a lot of emotional weight to bear in the single, but given that we’re becoming jaded generations, it was probably about time someone didn’t sugar the sonic pill.

The Kent singer-songwriter approaches his music as storytelling, making sense of the world through songs that move through belonging, love, adversity and hope. Patient pours from the perspective of a life fractured and half-lived, waiting, hoping for reconciliation, with the vocal phrasing augmented by longing rather than melodrama. There is a rare steadiness to the performance, the kind that lets sadness breathe without forcing it into spectacle.

After being featured on BBC Kent Introducing in 2024, where Callum French praised his cinematic sound and impressive vocal range, Morris proves exactly why that attention was deserved. His voice has the ability to make stillness feel vast and carry devastation through nuance.

If there was ever a song to be played while someone forlornly stares through rain-streaked glass, it is this cinematic triumph that exhibits Tom Will Morris as an artist capable of making the world feel as deeply as he does.

Patient is now available to stream on all major platforms, including Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Mike Moss’s This Place Is Americana-Tinged Singer-Songwriter Rock for Anyone Haunted and Healed by Home

Mike Moss has a conspicuous way of shaping outpourings of singer-songwriter emotion and melody into affecting ruptures of timeless resonance. In the same way Jeff Buckley cradles you in crescendos of intensity which broadside you as they swell from intimate narrative songwriting, his latest single, This Place, tests the elasticity of your heartstrings. There is no denying he belongs in the annals of great songwriters.

After the silence imparted through his hiatus, he has returned with a newfound sense of conviction within his poetic, Americana-tinged confessionalism. This Place is the first track from his forthcoming EP, Was It Love?, written in Manchester and produced by James Sinclair-Stott in Nashville, giving the song an authentic transatlantic atmosphere and crossover appeal.

There are echoes of soul-torn classics in the same vein as Hallelujah, with gospel-esque orchestral backing behind the bluesy 70s rock sonic signature, as Mike Moss battles with the prospect of starting over and how we are all shaped by the place that has come to define us, for better or worse.

The twangy Americana candour gives every line dust on its boots, while Bob Dylan-esque harmonicas come to blows with the complications of wanderlust and feeling homesick. It is the sound of a soul contending with emotionally heavy geography and a compass for anyone feeling lost.

This Place is now available to stream on all major platforms, including Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Jacob Tell – Stolen Car: Meet Americana’s Tenderest Aural Heartbreaker

If Neil Young drifted into more spacey territory, he would have hits like Jacob Tell’s Stolen Car in his discography. The tenderly cosmic, acoustic-guitar-driven single resounds in the simplicity of its arrangement, allowing each chord change, vocal lift and instrumental swell to feel deliberately exposed

The sustain-soaked, accordant strummed chords occasionally meet chamber-pop instrumentation and glows of gospel timbre as Tell shines through him knowing exactly where to place his vibrato notes, crossing over into Bowie’s influential legacy before the sombre blues guitar solo arrives. That solo approaches the delicate pacing of the single as tentatively as possible; its humbled notes make you lean in to truly appreciate them and the vintage amplification that projects them.

Based in Los Angeles, Tell has already built a sharply defined independent catalogue with Hard To Be Human, his critically praised first studio album, and Under The Influence, an all-covers EP honouring the singer-songwriters who shaped him. Now, as he records Someone To Cry To with producer Don Douglass, Stolen Car points towards something more intimate, closer to confession than commentary.

There is something affectingly resolute about the way Tell scribes his timeless sonic signature; there is no sense that he is appropriating aural history, only an exhibition of how this is how his soul takes creative form. He’s the kind of artist capable of leaving your soul warmer, fuller, and lighter.

Stolen Car is now available to stream on all major platforms, including Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

DARA DUBH – Oh Norah!: a Harp-Led Indie-Motown Love Letter to Norah Jones

DARA DUBH wrote a love letter to her ultimate confidant and muse in Oh Norah!, a riotously swoon-worthy invitation for everyone to celebrate the parasocial bonds that carry us when those in reach let you slip. Rapturous Motown classicism gets pulled through a contemporary indie-rock lens, bluesy grooves and DARA DUBH’s singular melodic nerve, allowing the single to stick to the synapses with an excess of dopamine.

Every instrumental works with the same purpose, lifting the energy of the earworm as much as those who feel the euphoria of it. The drums swing, the horns add golden theatre, and the backing vocals add a touch of untraditional cultural community to the release as gratitude swarms through the production for songwriters who let the pensive outliers into their souls, where they will find connection and catharsis. We may not all feel the same way about Norah Jones, but we all have an icon in our lives who bestows us with a little more confidence than what we can prise from the people around us.

Edinburgh-based harpist and singer-songwriter DARA DUBH brought Oh Norah! forward as the second single from her Creative Scotland-backed debut album, Go Like Crazy Big Moon. If the two released singles are any indication of what’s to come from the LP, DARA has a clear shot at making real musicianship trendy again in the synthesised and programmed cultural zeitgeist.

Oh Norah! is now available to stream on all major platforms, including Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Folk Etherealism Became Diaphanous Acoustic Mysticism in 8udDha bl0od’s ‘83I13V3’

8udDha bl0od

We’ve toured a lot of 8udDha bl0od’s discography, yet the Brighton-based singer-songwriter still succeeds in catching us off guard with his multifaceted musical talent. In one of his most tender singles to date, 83I13V3, folk etherealism reaches a plateau of diaphanous semi-lucidity, compelling you to lean deeper into the orchestrally scored acoustic piece where delicately finger-picked guitar strings sing around 8udDha bl0od’s voice as he projects abstractly arranged harmonies into the arcane atmosphere of the release.

That arcane atmosphere proves how much vision and command 8udDha bl0od has when it comes to conjuring a cathartically intimate aural aura. Every picked note feels placed with devotional care, letting the track breathe in a soft-lit space between folk confession, chamber-pop fragility and experimental acoustic mysticism. The production lets the song hover and slowly illuminate the strange emotional architecture inside it.

83I13V3 feels suspended between prayer, apparition and memory, carrying the kind of fragile intensity that rewards close listening. For an artist already able to move through multiple sonic identities, this single stands as proof of deep feeling and spectral precision.

83I13V3 is now available to stream on all major platforms, including SoundCloud.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

Atticus Sorrell Opened a Jazz-Infused Pandora’s Box with the Sepia-Hued Psychedelic Soul Rock in ‘Paper Crane’

Paper Crane by Atticus Sorrell

Always testing how far his roots as an orchestrator of psychedelic 70s soul rock will stretch, each release from Atticus Sorrell is revolutionary, and the sprawling, sepia-hued euphonia in his latest single, Paper Crane, takes nostalgia far beyond its usual orbit.

The way the grooves seem to dance from their own zealous soul volition makes Paper Crane feel like opening Pandora’s box; if Pandora’s box was filled with upbeat piano chops, shimmering organ tones and a rhythm section that leaves your heartbeat knotted around your heartstrings. The blues-rock guitar solo occupying the entire middle eight is a paradox in its ability to leave you hypnotised and adrenalised in the same frenetic breath, while the unfurling, jazz-infused scintillation in each progression feels like a five-minute explosion of pure soul, projected through tender-in-all-the-right-places provocation.

Born and raised in Northeast Indiana, Sorrell has become synonymous with singer-songwriter intimacy through soul, psychedelia, jazz and rock and roll, with Paper Crane leading into his second solo album, Ram and the Bull.

Inspired by the golden afterglow of Mind Games-era John Lennon, early 70s Todd Rundgren, George Harrison, Stevie Wonder, Curtis Mayfield, Roberta Flack, Steely Dan and pre-5 Lenny Kravitz, he writes love as memory, loss and grace. As for Atticus Sorrell’s voice in Paper Crane, he barely leaves any charisma for the rest of us with the sticky-sweet presence he brings to the visceral love song.

Paper Crane is now available to stream on all major platforms, including Bandcamp.

Review by Amelia Vandergast

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Isabella Richardson – Waiting Room: Indie-Folk Romantic Fury for the Lucy Dacus and Mitski Faithful

As equally luminous as Lucy Dacus and atmospherically intuitive as Mitski, indie singer-songwriter Isabella Richardson is already a phenomenon in her own right. The release of her EP, First Aid Kit, featuring the lead single Waiting Room, establishes the introspectively poetic siren as one of the most talented voices of her generation.

Richardson carries the force of an entrancing vocalist with a gift for artfully tempered theatrical folk confessionalism, yet the deeper magic lies in her refusal to sing from anyone else’s hymn sheet. There is a fire of lyrical poetry burning through her like an inferno, and Waiting Room lets that fire spread across the arrangement with haunting control.

In this heartbroken tour de force, her emotions, thoughts and observations spiral into a sermon of spitefully fierce revelation. Each line bears down more vulnerable weight on your conscience as the arrangement pirouettes through artfully evocative progressions, leaving you feeling the full force of her romantic fury.

Raised in Melbourne, shaped by Nashville, Los Angeles and now the UK, Richardson has built an independent career across continents, from early country chart success to a Disney+ soundtrack placement and more than 1.7 million Spotify streams. With First Aid Kit recorded in South London and The Come Down tour carrying her voice across UK venues, Waiting Room feels like her most self-possessed statement yet.

Waiting Room is now available to stream on all major platforms, including Spotify.

Review by Amelia Vandergast