Benjamin Wetherill 'the derby ram' (on the bone). Last featured in these pages with their stunning That Fucking Tank and Fran Rodgers releases which each and every home should have copies of. Starting the year as they mean to go on this fledging Leeds based imprint already have volume 2 of their 'on the bone' compilation (bugger we missed volume 1 - tut tut) tucked up their sleeves ands ready for March circulation. In the meantime there's this delicious spot of fancifully tuneage to fall headlong into. Already the proud parent of several self released outings (all of which we have to grumblingly admit we've somehow managed to miss) and with a planned split 10" with David Thomas Broughton (see missive 152) looming on the horizon courtesy of Birdwar records, Leeds based folkster Mr Wetherill has it seems been building himself a steady and loyal following. Limited to just 500 copies - and if there's any justice in this world - set to fly off the racks this dainty brace of cuts sees Wetherill applying his wistful artistry to one traditional folk fancy and one self penned gem. Beaming with warmth and a sense of idyllic breeziness his softly peppered reed laced interpretation of the classic ballad 'the derby ram' is a wonderfully conceived folly of lilting musicianship charmingly braided by bobbing brass arrangements (that strangely sound like they've been imported and sourced from the chain gang spirituals from the deep south to be flavoured with the essence of Beefheart) and some of the most disarmingly vocal quivers heard here since Feargal Sharkey stepped up to plate for the Undertones. Like nothing you've heard currently or for that matter for the rest of the year this delicately demurring appreciation of a tale inspired by the First Regiment of the Derby Militia's use of a ram as their mascot (or so the legend has it) will fill you with a glow and wondering why life couldn't always be as simple and untouched as this. Flip over for the equally inspired 'I would love to' - a banjo and clarinet caressing romp through your (great) grandparents dust covered 78rpm collection and something that frankly had you'd heard the late Mr Peel playing it as part of his Peelenium selections you wouldn't have batted an eyelid given that it sounds like its fallen through a time fracture straight from a pre war 'brimstone and treacle' styled musical. Essential feel good pop and deserved single of the missive

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