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Listening to music on trains tends to have the effect of twinning an album with a journey forever in my mind. There's an album by Sun Kil Moon that I can't listen to without picturing the sights of the sun-drenched countryside between Valencia and Gandia, and now I will forever associate Uncle Luc's debut album with the East Coast Main Line.

And while people with hate in their eyes waiting for a delayed train at Darlington station doesn't have quite the impact of a Spanish farm hand lazily chewing a blade of grass, there are some pleasant sights along the way. There are two separate fields of massive wind turbines somewhere around Peterborough, and not being a barber jacket-wearing landowner with a country estate and wife in the WI I actually enjoy the sight of them. 'Farewell Monsoon', the second track on Humblebrag, makes me similarly daydreamy and happy, in particular the line "that metaphor was ace and you know it."

England is a very green place if you stop to actually look at it for a moment. A little boy and, hopefully, his dad are playing football in a lush field a few miles outside Grantham and it makes me smile, as does 'Happy Too'. There's nothing incredible about the scene, or the song, but there's a merry quality about each that make me perfectly fine without incredible for the moment, thanks very much.

The skies begin to turn grey during 'Rainbow', in which Uncle Luc complains about the weather, though he does helpfully explain that sometimes it's easier to get results drawing with MS Paint, using a mouse. Not sure why, there were two horses shagging in a field back there and I got distracted. The sun bursts through the grey during 'Frankenstein's Monster', whose tinkling pianos and harmonies deserve the pretty countryside I see hurtling by.

Though Uncle Luc does an excellent Ben Lee impression throughout, it's most prominent on 'Quarter Past Dead', as the prosperously proportioned lady in the seat opposite makes light work of a can of Coke and an Aero. Mint, but that's not important right now.

And then it's over, and I'm left to reflect on an album that will now be connected with places north of London that I rarely see but should perhaps see more. It's a nice record to listen to to calm yourself ahead of a stag weekend in Newcastle where someone is threatening to make you dress like a Frenchman. It's not Sun Kil Moon, but not everywhere can be Valencia in the sun.

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