Not anymore from the hushed, dreamy delicacy of "A Choir Apart" to carefully phrased "Funny Thing She Said", the weary ache of which is accentuated by a scratchy violin solo that appears to have waltzed in from a wake, Walker sounds like no one else but himself. No one with functioning ears could have reasonably doubted Walker's abilities in this area, but there have been times when the over-generously administered ecstatic yelps have ventured worryingly close to mimicry, if not parody, of Tim Buckley's vocal mannerisms. Everything else has acquired whole new levels of ambition, confidence and originality.
Only the remarkably fluid yet showing-off averse - Walker treats guitar predominantly as a rhythm instrument - acoustic guitar-playing and the general musical milieu - a heady cross-pollination between folk, jazz, blues and psychedelia that was buried in the outer reaches of obscurity for ages but is now quite hip - remain unchanged. You won't have to spend that long in the company of Golden Sings That Have Been Sung to grasp why Walker's grown tired of his old stuff. A huge step forward from 2014’s convincing but undoubtedly derivative debut All Kinds of You, the hypnotic, circular grooves of last year’s Primrose Green catapulted the 27-year old much closer to a sound that’s genuinely his and his alone, even as tunes such as “Same Minds” and “Summer Dress” remained deep in debt to such formative influences as John Martyn and Tim Buckley. As such, Ryley Walker‘s recent unflattering comments about his second album are somewhat surprising.
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