Waterways

J R Coote trained as a classical guitarist at Cambridge University, and spent time in southern Spain studying flamenco. These two musical vines twist around one another in his first album, their plangency tempered by his affinity for the streams and floods of his native Oxford as the title, Waterways, makes clear.

‘Branches’ sounds at first as if it could have been written for the lute; as does ‘Strength to Remain’. ‘Kerswell Springs’ is, appropriately, far more fluid. The chordal flourishes of ‘Lyonesse’ draw on flamenco. Lyonesse is the fabled Arthurian kingdom that stretched between Land’s End and the Isles of Scilly and disappeared under the sea in a single night. Tristan laments the loss of his home and his love for Iseult here. Coote has a romantic sensibility, Icarus flies above in ‘Waterways’, and like that wayward aviator, Coote goes too far. His singing is overly lush, the mix (Tristan Butler on drums) too busy. Melodically and tonally Coote’s songs, ‘Hourglass’ for instance, are vaguely reminiscent of Al Stewart, but they lack his vivid image making, and rather than sonically satisfying, full chime rhymes, such as ‘dawn/born’ and ‘started/departed,’ are too pat to have impact. This is a debut though, and Coote can certainly play.