To put it lightly, Gia Margaret tapped into something last year. Her debut, There’s Always Glimmer, was by turns both what one would expect from its title, doggedly hopeful, and the most subtly devastating folk music in recent memory. Songs like opener ‘Groceries’ could disarm the listener completely, somehow instantly eviscerating any defensive emotional walls erected, setting the scene for a bare experience from the get go.

It’s no surprise, then, that a larger platform would come calling. Jumping at the chance to give the album a physical release worldwide, Dalliance reissued the LP last week, giving it the deluxe treatment. In truth, not all too much has changed, with the addition of one new track and an acoustic reworking of another. Nor need it have. There’s Always Glimmer had innate power immediately perceptible from the get go, and should this reissue reach even one new listener, it would be a just and noble gesture.

With any luck, it will do far more than that. With the gentle longing of folk feeling more ubiquitous than ever in recent years, it’s often hard to put a finger on just what sets an artist apart from the pack. Surely, production choices play a role, with the understated reserve here giving the listener that essential feeling that the album is being played just for them, but more than anything, I’d argue, it comes down the presence of the artist.

Many a singer can walk through an emotive folk ballad, and may even give it their all, but far fewer can keep the listener hanging on to - and feeling - every word. When Gia Margaret opens, immediately, with the words, “It’s safe to say it’s been a hard year,” it was instantly apparent There’s Always Glimmer would be that sort of journey.

Not that the music itself takes a backseat. The aching, repeated piano strokes, twinkling sounds, and gradually entering percussion of ‘Smoke’ craft a wistful backdrop for Margaret to lose herself over.

A certain sadness does indeed pervade Margaret’s voice, but it never dominates her work. It reverberates against the beauty of her words, such as when she sings, “You know that I’m covered in green / Only good things,” with a veritable ache in her voice on ‘Sugar’. Affairs here feel moored by some unknowable grief from her past, and Glimmer often feels as if its an effort to overcome, or at least come to peace with, that distant hurt.

Therein lies its power. Aside from those of us supernaturally lucky, gnawing regret simply becomes reality. We may view it with stubborn positivity, or push it to the back of our minds, yet it exists. To engage with There's Always Glimmer is to find a bit of peace yourself. When Margaret sings, “It’s just one more year,” on ‘Goodnight’, we may not know just what she’s referring to, but whatever it is we’re waiting for, or getting through, suddenly doesn’t seem so bad. There’s some healing to be found here.