The arrival of Tunng 20 years back was a gamechanger for British folk, allying its pastoral themes with gentle electronica and an often surrealist sense of humour. Sometimes it was folk horror on the high street as people were changed into hares; at others it became tripped-out domesticity. The group are still at it – a six-piece reunited around the core duo of Mike Lindsay and Sam Genders.
Indeed, this eighth studio album, their first in five years, consciously returns them to early days, becoming something of a tribute to themselves; there is even the return of a favourite character, Jenny, still impatient for change. Their default setting remains tumbling acoustic guitars led by the soft-sung vocals of Genders, but backings remain as inventive as ever. Sixes arrives in a jumble of warped percussion and clanging bells, whereas Levitate a Little relies on woodwind drones and Yeekays flies along on an African funk riff. The songs are sly and allusive. “Remember when you were a muddle? It was the snails causing trouble,” Fenders assures us on Snails, while on Didn’t Know Why, a piece of quirky folk-rap, he assures us: “We’re all still here, 20 entangled wings asleep in an oak tree.” Delightful, unpredictable stuff.
