The Pop Corporation

Hauntology is such a grimly hip phrase at the minute, but sometimes, it just fits so nicely when you’re listening to something that gives you the good willies. With Honey Gentry, it’s the sound of lilting country balladry, delivered via a ouija board.

Not to say it’s menacing music, but rather, spectral and otherworldly and cut with the same fuzzy glow that hovers over a Boards of Canada record if they were asked to produce a Mazzy Star LP. It’s spellbinding music for those cut adrift.

It’s the silver screen, it’s a ghost ship, it’s surrealism, and incredibly pretty music which is made for sinking into. It’s both brooding and pastoral, and it’s well worth your time.

While there’s echoes of the past, it’s not an exercise in revivalism – it’s familiar music, but very obviously rooted in the present, and if you don’t want to immediately lie on your back in your bedroom, surrounded by your things and memories of moments gone, letting the whole thing wash over you like a salve while you try and work out if you’re wildly depressed or just exhausted, then you’re not listening to Honey Gentry correctly.

There’s faded glamour, love, regret, uncertainty, tenderness and magic in the waveforms of this music and we’re incredibly impressed. Soft music it may be, but it’s an emotional rollercoaster.

Get on it.