Artfully printed on differently-shaded coated and uncoated stocks, perfect-bound with marbled-style end papers, this 196-page hardback contains 79 poems written by Molly Drake from 1935 until her death in 1993; plus lyrics, a 14-page introduction by her daughter, precious family photos, diary extracts, song manuscripts and handwritten notes by Molly, as well as the essay Give Me A Place To Be, which previously appeared in the tribute to her son, Remembered For A While.
Also 26 short recordings across two CDs, performed by Molly, taped at home by husband Rodney in the 1950s and 1960s: her own exquisitely poignant, heavy-hearted songs,  steeped in loss and wonder, and a treasurable, posh kind of ‘Englishness’ (not the usual bollocks). Have a listen to I Remember.
Joe Boyd has called this compilation ‘the missing link in the Nick Drake story’, but that’s to do it down.
A beautiful Christmas present.

Startlingly fresh and unusual, these timeless, traditional peasant songs from north-west Spain — mostly with percussion accompaniment, sometimes with flute, bagpipe, oboe or rebec.

Wonderful, previously-unheard recordings by the legendary Bahamian guitarist, at his peak in 1965, made at his only New York concert, at home in Nassau, and in a Manhattan apartment. Gripping, one-off playing, continuously stepping out of line, or surprising you with accents, like Monk; rough, enraptured singing in the age-old tradition of local sponge fishermen, with startling irruptions of humming, babble and scat.

Legendary stoner folk by former Jefferson Airplane and Moby Grape member (who dropped some LSD and motorcycyled from California to the Nashville studio in his pyjamas).

The 1972 LP coupled with an equally rare film from 1970, The Secret Of Sleep.

Zinging folk-blues session discovered in the tape cupboard of a Milwaukee radio station. Originals, Lomax stuff, blues covers. Rated a key influence by David Bowie, Lucinda Williams, John Lennon and co.

The three albums for John Peel’s Dandelion label, plus live material, and recordings made for the BBC between 1968 and 1972. Clickety-click, sixty-six tracks.
‘Bridget St John proved to be the closest Dandelion got to acid folk and psychedelia; her two later albums for the label contain flashes of avant- garde adventurousness, but are closer in spirit to Nick Drake or a post- Fotheringay Sandy Denny’ (Seasons They Change).
The discs are presented in mini LP sleeves; the booklet includes memorabilia and comprehensive notes.

‘Who would attempt to combine cunning ethnological forgery, Scottish folk songs, claw-hammer guitar, untutored horn-tootling, elastically relaxed drumming and garage electronic fuckery? Only Greg and Stefan, high on sea, sunshine and mis-judged micro-dosing — that’s who.
‘Don’t Drown was offered as practical advice during the self-described Yellow Submarine phase of making this record. And while they managed to avoid literally doing so (phew), they sound here like they got pretty ‘deep in’ to an Octopus’s sound world all their own. This surprisingly clear analogue recording has just enough Bikini Bottom grit to ensure traction. The tunes are inviting, and the sonic disruptions are too good-natured and goofy to upset even the most delicate digestion.
‘The sessions have had a couple of years to marinate, courtesy of some pandemic, and are here offered in that most Archducal of vinyl formats, the double ten inch. What are you waiting for, a side of Crabby Patties? Get your water-wings and dive in (unless you’re tripping)!’ (Bruce Russell, The Dead C)

A collection of EPs recorded at home, most Decembers since 2001, and given to friends as Christmas cards. Traditional carols and many originals, with stickers, stories, a songbook, and a bunch of stocking fillers.

Following on from UFO, in 1972, but ‘a different beast. Out go The Wrecking Crew, in comes arranger Jim Hughart [who worked with everyone from Joni Mitchell to Tom Waits to David Axelrod]. The result blends Sullivan’s folk-pickings with bold-ass brass (You Show Me), funky lounge (Sonny Jim), swampy blues (Biblical Boogie) and even honky tonk — see Sandman, ‘rescued’ from UFO along with Plain To See, its already fearsome breakbeat funked up to 11 and beyond’ (Mojo).

Lavish, first-time release of a previously unheard 1969 studio session.
Ten acoustic solo recordings: brand new songs mixed with stripped-back versions of the likes of Jerome, So Natural and Whistle Stop, from UFO.

Terrific analogue recordings of inimitable covers of Thin Lizzy, Nico, Black Sabbath, Abba, Sandy Denny etc, with support from Will Oldham and labelmates Supersilent.

A singing trio from Charente-Maritime, reviving folk songs from the neighbouring department of Vendée, on France’s western seaboard. Mostly recorded at home, with guests playing accordion, violin, piccolo and contrabassoon, and cigar-box guitar.

In his liner notes, old admirer and collaborator Alasdair Roberts registers ‘a deepened richness’ in these new recordings, ‘unfolding with a patient confidence… considered and poised.’
‘There’s a greater complexity and subtlety to their unique three-part harmonising, too. Their voices mesh in even stronger — almost telepathic — ‘fraternité’ than ever before: now commanding and mighty as a full-rigged counter-vessel, now gentle and lulling as a mother’s cradle-croon, or a whisper in a lover’s ear.’