The Brother’s Gillespie, The Fell. Album Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10

Close siblings with the same measured response to nature and art just seem to ally themselves perfectly to the sense of harmony that is sought after by all; whether it is the fields, the woods or within the reach of an open window as the countryside calls out to humanity to care for the environment, harmony is what we seek, and if it comes in the form of two human beings making music and the purity of vocal then that is the start of something beautiful.

We are so out of touch with nature that we will spontaneously assume that effortless beauty is a rare and precious commodity, when all around us, if we care to listen and take note, then we find that the nightingale and the sparrow as they sing songs of serenade sound just as sincere as the waves that hit the beach when we are sunbathing on holiday.

It is to the likes of Northumbria’s The Brothers Gillespie, James and Sam, that we find ourselves drawn to, openly and without thought of disservice, as they organically weave a sense of passion out of observation, of the sense of healing in which their world is placed and The Fell to which their music is attuned to.

This second album by the two brothers makes the most of the calming affair into which the songs such as Coventina’s Daughter, Tina’s Song, Northumberland I and its immediate follow up, Northumberland II and Wilderness & Wild do more than just float on past as if carried  by the weight of water underneath, they tackle the swirl and the erosion on the pleasant banks either side and gain a perspective not seen from the plush meadows; for this is nature calling, the rough with the smooth, the tranquil with the stirred, for without either one there is no harmony, no spirit.

With guest appearances from Siannie Moodie and Tim Lane, the poetry of the album is enlightening, compelling and eager to be placed within. The Fell is far from barren, but it is a glorious high, a summit reached from where nature and harmony can be touched.

Ian D. Hall