With the opening harmonics of the opening track sparkling to a mere whimper in my speakers, I had a good feeling about what was to follow through the course of what may be the debut (or maybe 50th - it's difficult to tell - I don't have a press release to refer to and I've the lost all will to move to the Internet place and look on the web thingy.) See the initial lashings of a delicately woven spell of acoustic guitar had laid a lace like foundation to the album, but some 50 minutes later (with the opening harmonics of the closing track sparkling to a mere whimper in my speakers) I began to realise that much like Gob Bluth, I had made A terrible mistake.

You see while all this Thomas leeb-y goodness is all very well and good, when in the wrong hands that guitar is little more than an instrument of torture - frowned upon by the UN, banned by the Geneva convention and outlawed in 49 states (Texas seems to think it's fair game) - that's right folks we got a code brown:

THE SOLO FOLK ALBUM.

I'm being unfair I know - what's undeniable is that Mr Jones is a truly wonderful guitar player and was on one occasion a very talented composer; it's just that having listened to this album three or four times now I genuinely struggle to make any differentiation between any of the tracks on the album. Even when finger picked arpeggiating acoustic guitar gives way to finger picked arpeggiating acoustic banjo - the playing, thrust front and centre for a lack of a vocalist - just becomes all very monotonous and as a result loses it's impact - as I must stress that the actual technique involved from a guitar-y perspective is wonderful, it just feels lost among the spidering madness of an eternal writers block. It's a shame but with the addition of a tighter producer some additional textures and a vocalist there could be a great record in those strings yet