Window Shopping For Pure Gold

It's a condensed set of reviews this week, and it covers the downbeat to the upbeat with nothing inbetween. Raise a glass to :

Amanda Bergman, Go Kurosawa, Lavinia Blackwall, Sophie Jamieson, Sydney Minsky-Sergeant

Pop In The Real World Taster Tracks 2026 (Spotify)

Pop In The Real World Taster Tracks 2026 (YouTube)

Soft Shakes : Go Kurosawa

Best for : Dropping a little cheer into your daily routine.

It's been a while since I stumbled across an album brimming with as much joy as this. Go Kurosawa is a man whose excitement at what he does is as much fun as watching a kid in a new adventure playground. And it's catching!

He takes influences from everywhere - motorik electronica, American 50s rat pack caves, Ibizan cafes overlooking the setting sun, Yellow Magic Orchestra cartoonism and fuzzcore. It's a glorious mish mash that works.

In execution he has the full studio works at his disposal, but in attitude this is a bedroom production developed without anyone looking over his shoulder to tell him that will never work or sell. There's a glint in his eye and a devil may care spontaneity about trying out ideas for the sheer hell of it. That's what gives this album its sweet charm and happiness.

On 'Moon Place' the dominant bass pulse shepherds the song along before allowing it to fly free. In the quietly accelerating guitar of 'Soredesho?' you can hear the delicate fretwork of Jose Gonzalez. 'Green Thing' incorporates a Japanese ambience in which waves of sweeping cymbals are allowed to flourish. If sixties mod jazz funk is your bag, you'll find it all over 'Jungle Cooking'. 'Autowalk' - inspired by the moving walkways in airports highlights the album's dominant tone which is the first day excitement of a long anticipated holiday. I can think of only Jim Noir as his equal in making music that is as catchy and overflowing with individual personality.

Take it or leave it. No, wait.. Take it, and then buy it.

Taster Track : Moon, Please

Lunga : Sydney Minsky Sargeant

Best for : Anyone wanting a return to classic, singer songwriting

Don't judge a book by its cover, and don't judge an album by its sleeve. The necklaced figure on the cover doesn't reflect the introspective music within.

Nowadays there's something refreshing nowadays about songs based around an acoustic guitar gently strummed and finger picked. Sergeant is a bedroom composer, with a gift for sincerity and downbeat melodies. His songs conjure up a world he can't escape. It's not grim, but it's unsatisfying. It's a world where people leave him. 'Lisboa' is a song he wrote as a teenager, about the departure of a close family member, leaving him to grapple with his feelings of loss and being left behind. These are the songs of a man who has spent too much time alone. His voice is dark and comes to you from the shadows. It's serious. When he sings, you listen.

Nick Drake is an easy comparison to make, but it's a very good fit. John Martyn is another close match, both in the tone of the songs and in the suggestion of something tortured lying deep within them. There's an element of the blues to 'Chicken Wire'. It's punchy, but not pretty. 'Hazel Eyes' give the feeling of being trapped and unable to act.

The songs are prevented from becoming maudlin or desperate by the presence of a quiet but bright optimism. 'Lisboa' ends with the repeated refrain of:

"It's alright now, you know

It will be just fine."

'How It Once Was' is similarly positive. He may sound weary, but he's resilient and he knows that hope is there to cling to.

''For Your Hand' and ' I Don't Wanna' are excellent examples of Nick Drake style folk with electronic embellishments. I'm not usually a fan of ambient interludes that can disrupt the flow of a record, especially longer ones such as the 7 minutes and 33 seconds of 'Lunga - Interlude'. This particular interlude works well because it fits so well into the prevailing atmosphere.

Know Sidney Minsky Sargeant through his songs, not his image. You won't regret it.

Taster Track : I Don't Wanna

I Still Want To Share : Sophie Jamieson

Best for : Those that need to know that life can get worse, but it can be bearable. Just!

Sophie Jamieson's album 'I Still Want To Share' has been out for a while, but I still want to share it. Be warned though. It's a bleakly emotional record, the kind that makes you feel guilty for any frivolity.

Think of all the feelings you don't want to experience : desperation, hopelessness, bitterness, defeat. They're all here, grinding out songs that you need but may not relish hearing.

Her voice pleads, admonishes and condemns as it switches between a gentle keening and worn (not warm) tones. There's a power in such forensic examination of wounds that refuse to heal and an unadorned ugliness in displaying feeling so sparsely. Her voice is also suffused with loneliness. Although the songs are directed to individuals, they feel trapped in her head, destined never to be spoken out loud. Lines such as "When are you going to watch me march / Right out of your loving?" may read like the lyrics of a hundred Tamla Motown girl bands but here, they're filled with the reality of what those words mean. Sophie Jamieson sees pain as a disease, and these songs are a warning not to contract it.

This is the bleakest, most honest collection of songs since Lou Reed's 'The Bed'. Imagine that in an Americana setting and you have an idea of how this record sounds. So what's to like? One thing is her determination. It may give slight solace to know that she's undefeated, still surviving. The songs are well crafted and the emotion they contain is real, not manufactured. And in songs like 'I'd Take You' the music is finger pickingly pretty, a glimmer of beauty in the ugliness.

They say write about what you know. I hope Jamieson never has to write an album like this again but, as she has, give it your empathy and compassion.

Taster Track : I'd Take You

The Making : Lavinia Blackwall

Best for : Folkies

I've never been a folkie. I like many bands and artists that are folk influenced, but I've never understood the appeal,in this day and age, of traditional folk music. By traditional, I mean from a couple of centuries ago.

Well, I need to wake up and become less curmudgeonly because Lavinia Blackwall's 'The Making ' is a delight from beginning to end.

Once I'd quelled the alarm of hearing folk vocals on 'Keep Me Away From The Dark', this felt like a good sunny walk ending with a pint at a quaint country pub by a village green, or an enjoyable night in with Sunday evening costume drama TV. With the sound of brass bands and the movement of village dances, you're transported to the world of Thomas Hardy before the children start killing each other because 'they woz too many.'

I still can't grasp folk's specific essence. It feels like a mix of storyline, tremulous higher pitched vocals and the rhythms of country dancing. So how have the muskets, buttons and britches observed by a maiden with ribbons in her hair in 'Scarlett Fever' enchanted me? I suspect that, while these songs are recorded on 21st century instruments, the absence of a heavy layer of effects pedals means that the melody and storytelling are why you listen.

It helps that Lavinia, who used to sing with Trembling Bells, has a voice to remember with a clarity to relish. The backing vocals are fascinating too, at times almost swirling around you in the manner of a round.

'Keep Me Away From The Dark' marks this out as a record in the mould of Steeleye Span, Fairport Convention or Renaissance. I liked it. 'The Damage We Have Done' also takes me by surprise. It's folk rock after it has bumped up against jangle pop. 'Morning To Remember' demonstrates how folk can infiltrate the modern day successfully. On 'The Making' it becomes clear that folk is music to dance to. Perhaps it looks back to Victorian days but dance to it you will. 'The Will To Be Wild' carries the album to a strong climax, whilst the oompahs of the coda 'Sisters In Line' will leave you with a smile on your face.

Lavinia Blackwall is folk in a way that her peer Chloe Foy is not. She's pop in a way that The Unthanks have forgotten. 'The Making' is an album that is brimful of life and will challenge your preconceptions about what folk can be.

Taster Track : The Damage We Have Done

Embraced For A Second As We Die : Amanda Bergman

Best for : Women who need a friend who understands

This is, first and foremost, a record for women. It's a meditative reflection on age, experience, the arrival of grown up concerns and responsibilities and the passing of time. It's the kind of record a woman could and should clutch to her breast because she'll find solace and understanding there.

I reject any suggestion that this is a dismissive opening to the review. Men have their guides too. The tone may be different, but singers such as Nick Lowe and Richard Hawley provide a similar service for men of a certain age, wrapped up in a different tone, maybe, but providing the same level of empathy and understanding.

We used to call the sound of Amanda Bergman, AOR. Above all it was smooth and tasteful and it lay easy on the ear. Bergman though has added emotional depth and haunting melodies to elevate these songs way above radio filler. It's the result of too many nights lying awake and thinking.

Listen to the discreet and drifting melodies to 'Groby' and the closing track 'The Moon In E Minor' for evidence of that. 'Grasp' captures the sense of us eavesdropping on her innermost thoughts as she sings, lost in herself. It's beautifully arranged and produced too, from the subtle brass embellishments of 'The Moon In E Minor' to the delicate vocals and guitar of 'Never Known Like That'.

These are lovely, subdued songs that are beautifully produced, melodic and, just a touch despondent. I'm as susceptible to it as anyone but I wonder if it's sacrilege to wish, even momentarily, for this serious sadness to lift for a while. These songs would fit on the soundtrack of a Scandinavian arthouse film that's deep and, let's be realistic, downbeat.

There are only a handful of singer songwriters who can tap so intimately and successfully into the emotions and feelings of their audience. Mary Chapin Carpenter and Cassandra Jenkins are two of them, Amanda Bergman is a third.

Taster Track : The Moon In E Minor