Not quite a spicy melting pot, not quite a slow cooker, Adam Scrimshire’s third LP is bound by the open air. A diarist to a day of road trips, campfire closures, a spot of impromptu partying, and facing forks in the road, his is a free spirit that enjoys taking and taking on a little piece of everything.
The singer-songwriter nudges the cusp of coastally-placed comfort, after nature’s course has lead him to louder climes. Indie pop and trip hop, put into down-looking-up and happy to be jaded categories, would appear to be at Scrimshire’s analogue/organic base, as folk strummings that lead to a hazy, surf’s down air and imagining post-dubstep from afar (“Convergent,” “Siren”) branch out yet stay supportive. It’s here where the album, close-knit in its creations, evolves out of sight, writing out a checklist of places to see and things to do, mixing up male and female vox, linking impassioned performance and above-a-whisper insights.
On Scrimshire travels, a touch of blue grass house on “Corporeal” giving the idea of a travelling band, also telling of the live element his convoy effect. Coming to rest at the cinematic and the ambient though always seems to be the album’s most gratifyingly natural path. Of long and winding wind-beaten roads, “No More” makes a case for audiovisual assignment, and “Kindle a Fire” makes as much sense as an intermission of glowing embers. Pack your bindle and press play.
File under: Morcheeba, Hidden Orchestra, Skeletons