Sairie - Beneath The Spreading Tree
“Nature is in no hurry, yet everything is accomplished” – Lao Tzu
To brush against sound, to use songs as a true form of tranquillity, to pay no heed to that which arrives swiftly without taking root, without establishing eternal roots…
There are few artists who create free from the frenzy of success, who develop themes and approaches by devoting every single moment to generating unique forms of ecstasy, linking them together and sowing the seeds of a common sense that is needed now more than ever.
When all this happens, one might describe it as miraculous, unique, extraordinary, whereas it ought, rather, to be the norm. But thank goodness we have the chance to listen to this album, a true and profound treasure trove of diamonds that sparkle through near-silence, a lightness that needs no gimmicks, tricks or massive doses of exaggeration: *Beneath The Spreading Tree* is a work that exudes an air of antiquity, as if Joan Baez’s American folk had found a way to be reborn and draw upon the ballads of the sixteenth century, creating truly marvellous visual associations. The significance of the album is immense, thanks to atmospheres that favour whispers and introspection, with literary textures that seem to have emerged from novels kept under a protective blanket, and melodies shaped by arpeggios and arrangements that have the courage to make us look up whilst simultaneously creating ever-expanding inner spaces. Time here, in these nine tracks, is a library, a dense canvas upon which explosions are suspended and tender candles are lit, protected by guitars and a voice that creep into celestial dreams, into meadows of fantasy with the perfect soundtrack.
The Brighton trio combines restlessness with a sense of calm in a serious musical endeavour, drawing on aspects of 1970s British psychedelia whilst stripping away the frayed nerves and rambling mental journeys, so that the whole becomes a beam of light that offers the senses a sense of security and starting points from which to embark on a journey made up of poetry and lullabies which, whilst appearing anachronistic, actually allow us to engage with reality by bringing it into balance. There is nothing retro here, but rather a deep respect for an ancient simplicity that has now been lost: from antiquity to the present day, this album is a sonic and behavioural map designed to ensure we do not forget our roots, to strengthen them and to foster a positive outlook towards the future. Being able to evoke instincts, reflections and stories, rather than offering academic explanations, is a marvellous fact that reveals the wisdom inherent in these compositions. Starting with guitars and spoken word, they incorporate the plucked notes of the autoharp and sounds devoid of flashy effects, gifting us with autumnal and wintry atmospheres that bless the waiting, silence and subtle glances. The old-world sensibility, the cinematic flows, the soft colours, and the verses that hold the listener just as firmly as the choruses transform the song form into a sun-drenched journey that reaches out to the moon.
Care is the treble clef that allows the story of an artistic sensibility—in tune with secrets and the harmonic currents that transform energy into a truly impressive choral beat—to be set upon the stave. It resembles a glass bell jar draped in a veil of white satin, in symbiosis with an evident and evocative sense of the sacred. And the ability to transform human tragedy into an arpeggio, with the two voices perfectly synchronised in their desire to be a chirp rather than a scream, is what truly makes this a gem. Right from the cover, one senses the need to depict a landscape devoid of the ever-present human presence, with undulations and slow currents, as if everything were to be imagined rather than seen – a condition in which recent music no longer seems to take an interest. And it is also in this resilient manner that the value of these lunar expositions is measured.
Fate is recounted with wisdom, in language that is never dramatic, through ballads which, musically speaking, lighten the overall atmosphere of the imagery, in keeping with pure folk tradition, where reality must never overcome the dream. And so the luminous and the sombre strike a harmonious balance that elevates the whole. It often feels as though one is transported to 1960s France, with that attitude of making artistic creation a conscious and deeply rooted pastime. And so the term ‘light music’ takes on its true meaning. A debut that spans great distances, allowing for forays into American territory too, to encompass the entire hemisphere in a profound openness of mind. An album that reaffirms the notion that, if one is unfamiliar with beauty, one risks being overwhelmed by it. The hope is that, in both cases, you’ll be open to their explorations, to that refined sense of alertness, to clusters of grapes gathering in your stomach, with emotions that often make your mood waver. There are no pauses; it’s a flow through a time (their own) that operates by different rules to ours, a gentle challenge they win hands down.
For a more nuanced understanding, one should read Haruki Murakami’s novel *The Art of Running* to grasp the passage of time and physical transformation, or watch Christopher Nolan’s film *Inception* to see how the interplay of imaginary worlds alters one’s state of mental perception. Everything that takes place in this compositional act blends life, art, anticipation and a most gentle sense of bewilderment – a procession of extraordinary moments of rapture that ultimately reveal new pathways.
When an indie-folk sensibility emerges, one realises that their future is already sending out coded messages that are bound to unfold, because right from the start of their journey they have managed to leave the doors open. The album offers a clear glimpse of this ability of theirs, and there is no doubt about the new fascinations that lie ahead. Meanwhile, it will be difficult to grasp the full truth, the intensity, the care and the specific elements at work here: it really does seem as though certain fragments have been concealed within the recording, as though there is a reluctance to reveal everything, leaving it to our intuition to complete the picture.
We weep, we stand in awe before the colours that seem to spring forth from our skin whilst the musical notes sink deep within us; we listen with our eyes closed and see how the darkness makes things clear and evident, for a truly unfamiliar pleasure. The production, which is excellent, makes this a book to be read without a stopwatch, casting aside perceptions and knowledge, and giving us the heady sensation of flight. And then the singing manages to completely captivate us, with the certainty that this style was created to intoxicate us. Emma Morton and Jon Griffin are mirror images of one another, and although it is the former who stands out more, in the end, when they come together or take turns, one understands their rapport and the meaning behind it, in a perfect interplay of harmony and melody. The balance stems from an understanding of the historical roots of the singing, of the context, and of the music that beckons; through profound, intimate work, this leads to a result akin to the American Spiritual and the Field Holler, creating a truly powerful symbiosis.
On tiptoe, amidst the waves of the sky and the rays of thought, amongst letters written in ink and papyri unrolled upon a ribbon: when magic is born, the world bows down, and that is why we can do no other but tip our hats and raise a toast: *Beneath The Spreading Tree* may soon become a benchmark for generations to come. In the meantime, let us enjoy it and we shall be souls wrapped in divine beauty…
The places are not postcards but emotional and sensory paintings, like an inevitable contrast that captivates. The use of melody is a stunning, luminous exercise; like harmony and concerted sound, it contributes to an unrestrained, undulating transport, putting the concept of speed into perspective. Everything is ivory-hued, close to the troubadour’s path, so that one may sense connections to the bardic world, with the intention of making this work so welcoming and sensual, through melancholic hints that suspend the heartbeat and clothe it in new inclinations.
A collection of pastoral bundles of twigs and matches fills the gravitational space with gentle openness, allowing the listener to immerse themselves in these songs as if there were an ascending reality onto which to climb and disappear. Magic, rituals and an aura of mystery inhabit the tracks like temporal portals, making us feel like paralysed yet happy sponges. The sense that forms of survival exist is comforting; it helps us decide to abandon, at least for forty-three minutes, this dependence on everyday life that continues to destroy us with false, short-lived inventions and novelties. Instead, in this artistic journey, one senses the need to transform the ridiculous and the void into a psychological state of great capacity, nullifying selfishness and the rampant spread of consumerism. The album offers a different perspective, a physical altar nestled in the hills, with the sky and stories as its only credible deities.
The coexistence of certain contrasting expressions prompts a long and meticulous reflection: the band is free from external influences; it is gently drawn into turning songs into opportunities for exchange and embraces, like a meteor that transforms into a tangible metaphor, leaving the listener spellbound and hooked. Lights, spectres, shadows and a penchant for minimalism allow simplicity to become a new mental exercise, and it is here that the band’s refined, restrained pop sensibility is revealed, in which the excesses of those who treat music as a sham are entirely set aside. When 1970s British progressive folk was at its peak, one might have sensed that it would all be a fleeting season, swept away by the cyclical nature of time. Instead, thanks to this artistic trio, we find ourselves in the astonishing situation of an infinity that will never yield.
Certainly, bands such as Pentangle seem to emerge from the grooves, as do Fotheringay and The Strawbs, in whose music the pastoral element was pursued and showcased in abundance. However, it is truly indisputable that the Brighton trio has a greater range of elements at its disposal and is capable of adapting its approach and creative vision to create a sense of expansiveness and greater resilience in the face of the passage of time…
Song by Song
1 - Song for The Winter
A foreboding tension emerges within the two voices and a guitar that, right from the start, focuses on the exploration and ability to orchestrate the sound with dark, powerful swathes, like a slow-moving storm approaching. Ninety-four seconds in which the flight of birds, nature and summer become a heartbeat in slow motion, within a perfectly centred folk framework.
2 - The Breeze On The Meadow
The love recounted by Emma’s voice is a presence, an openness to the future, a delicate voice with eternal intentions, just as the sense of historical belonging in Joan Baez’s rendition of *The Ballad of Sacco and Vanzetti* is infinite, lending this enchanting track an ancient flavour; the autoharp here celebrates it all in a subtle yet majestic way, with the singer’s breaths in the finale evoking the image of a black rose that, as it falls, shatters our tears…
3 - The Gairdner
Gardens, doors, roses, shoes – a list of objects and things that form the basis of an enchanting, angelic story, in which the conviction prevails that the band is a faithful representation of the storytellers who performed not merely to entertain but to convey ideas with a view to building a new moral code. The arpeggio is a delightful little tune, and then we have the opening – brief and delicate – of the two voices together, suggesting that within this apparent simplicity lies meticulous craftsmanship, a workshop labouring in the dark to illuminate the days to come…
4 - Harder Than It Seemed
Love, in sleep, has its own truth, its own balance, which suspends (as in the lyrics of this track) a series of logical and sorrowful daytime contradictions. The music seems to come from the neighbourhoods of Marseille in the 1960s, with North African influences; the vocals are a gentle yet genuine wound; the rhythm picks up pace compared to the previous three tracks, a tentative foray into a more dreamlike form of psychedelia…
5 - Three Knots
Another enchanting performance, this time featuring the vocals of Jon and Emma, alternating in a way that reveals crystalline sounds transforming into celestial music, suspended between folk and the sensation of a late-19th-century overdose. A swing of leaves plunges into the void against the perfect soundtrack, with the wistful finale carried by music that transports us to Scotland, where cellos and violins weave through the soft, flowing dances of truly Celtic notes…
6 - How Many
‘How Many’, reminiscent of Dylan, draws us into an almost distorted sound, whilst the two voices create a rosy, fragrant whirlpool, before plunging into this elegant display of enlightening psych-folk. A gem amongst gems…
7 - The Green Light
Another lyric brimming with questions (how I love all this…), in a track that this time takes us to the south of England in the 1970s, with just a few chords but a restrained crescendo that is intoxicating and takes your breath away. The meticulous arrangement is a precious element, turning the whole thing into a sigh and the beginning of a shiver that doesn’t fade so easily… Marvellous!
8 - You Can’t Go Back
The most romantic lyric, one that resonates most closely with the undulating waves of the Yorkshire hills, reveals the most distinctly psychedelic side of the entire collection of songs, with the vocals shifting in register at just the right pace to find a home in our hearts. And the title, as the tone drops, becomes a blade that cuts away any possibility of arguing otherwise. A track dense with words and tumultuous imagery, it exists within a bubble of classical music and folk that leaves us pensive yet dreamy…
9 - Beneath The Spreading Tree
The album’s title track, as the final (and longest) track, unfolds like a novel: it requires deep contemplation to grasp a story of love, death, loneliness, and reconciliation with the energy and will to live. To achieve this, the musical arrangement opens up assured currents, with minimalist interludes, in the spirit of purity from both artistic sections, culminating in the apotheosis of a subtle cinematic tapestry of musical notes that move like suspended images yet remain constantly interconnected…
Listening to this album gives us a sense of space and puts the brakes on our breakneck pace; it sets us on a path where we can reflect, viewing the music as an encyclopaedia we are eager to read…
Alex Dematteis
Musicshockworld
Salford
September 19, 2026
Sairie:
Andy Thomas: bass
Maria Marzaioli: violin
Alice Eldridge: cello
Rebecca Tann: accordian
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