Crumbling Ghost - Four

Within the broad church of metal and its many offshoots – rock, doom, stoner and all the rest – it remains a minor thrill to stumble across a group who seem to exist at a slight tangent to everything else. Crumbling Ghost is one such anomaly. Crumbling Ghost are not newcomers. They've been operating for some time, releasing records sporadically, Four' is in fact their fourth release. Along the way they've accumulated a fervent coterie of followers, not to mention the occasional nod of approval from tastemakers such as Stuart Maconie, Stewart Lee and Tom Ravenscroft. And though they've appeared at Roadburn, shared stages with Hawkwind and even Damo Suzuki, they remain (possibly by design) curiously under the radar.

The group's core idea is deceptively simple: traditional folk material refracted through the haze and heft of heavy, fuzzy stoner rock with a chunk of psyche and a smattering of doom. But crucially, this is done without the costumery and theatrical tics that often accompany such collisions. No mock pagan pageantry, no graveyard cosplay, no cartoon Satanism.

What Crumbling Ghost latch onto is not folk as a museum piece, but as a lived experience, the dramas rooted in the culture, stories, and daily lives of ordinary people, the folklore, the tales of love and death, murder and adultery, freedom and oppression. Singer Katie Harnett says. "Doting mothers, possessive, violent partners, vulnerable women, seasonal workers and Royal scandals this album is our representation of the trials and tribulations of human existence and universal experiences that still feel relevant today.

Guitarist, John, adds. "Themes of murder, betrayal, loss, jealousy, and love are found across the record. In particular, the songs of Martin Carthy have been a particular source of inspiration".

The result is a set of murder ballads, supernatural reckonings and cautionary tales, all wrapped in slabs of heavy, thumping fuzz and atmospheric sonics. Harnett's voice sits at the centre: unmistakably folk rooted, but shorn of prettification, melodic yet capable of real bite.

'Four' amply and beautifully demonstrates that when it comes to 'folk horror' there's nothing quite as horrible as folk ... Here, the horror such as it is, and it must be said, the moments of light, comes not from theatrics, but from the songs themselves – which, after all, is where it's always lived.