‘National Treasure’ is a faintly patronising thing to call anyone, but Field Music - Peter Brewis and his brother David’s rock day-job - are well on their way to earning that honorific. The consistency of the band’s output since the release of their debut album fifteen years ago has remained stubbornly high. Since then Brewis has found time in between recording and releasing half a dozen records to become a father, run a studio (and see it demolished) and work on myriad other compositions and side projects, his latest being the partnership with Sarah Hayes as You Tell Me.

Sarah Hayes of Admiral Fallow has a similarly impeccable background; a classical education; indie-folk and traditional folk including Celtic and Northumbrian roots. Despite being born on the Wirral (always a good sign), she has inhabited the Northumbrian and border milieu for much of her working life. It's hardly surprising that two firmly North Eastern artists of distinction should have found eachother. It's even less of a surprise that the resulting album is almost impeccable.

‘You’d laugh in disbelief if I told you the impact you made’, the soul of You Tell Me, is firmly self-deprecating, with enough light and shade provided by satisfying tonal shifts from perky, radio friendly pop (‘Water Cooler’) to wistful ballads (‘No Hurry’). Hayes’ reedy voice is often beautifully pitched amongst a straightforward blend of un-effected drums and piano. Production tricks are largely eschewed for a spring water-clean mix focused on criss-crossing melodies and tracks that develop and build rather than overwhelming the listener with atmospheric noise.

Highlight ‘Starting Point’ bends this template a little to introduce some field recordings and a gentle phasing on Brewis’ vocal, but the pair of artists never seek to wrest the listener out of their thoughtful enjoyment of what is a very enjoyable, and very thoughtful record. Everything is given space and time to develop; the second verse of the beautifully brief ‘Kabuki’ breaks into a string quartet topped only by Hayes’ gentle vocal; "I’m not sure that anyone’s realised yet/ there’s more courage than before/ my arms, my hands, my heart/ I’ve missed out on such a lot."

As pretty as much of the album is, it can lack the immediacy to really grab the listener and pull them into a different world. It can sometimes feel like you’re watching a dress rehearsal rather than the full performance – something is withheld. There’s no firm sense, despite the poignancy of the lyrics, that anything is actually broken. A sense of emotional urgency is crucial to any music. Other than on opening track ‘Enough to Notice’, nothing much appears to be at stake.

Despite that criticism, this is a masterfully pulled together collection, as you would expect from artists each with their own lengthy playbook. It will be interesting to see if it draws enough attention to warrant a follow up.