Mark Fry - South Wind, Clear Sky

In some ways, the saga of Fry - who built a formidable reputation as a Normandy-based visual artist during his retirement from music - has some parallels with that of Vashti Bunyan. Both songwriters put out roundly ignored albums that mixed folk song forms with the psychedelic flavours of the day in the early 70's; for added obscurity value, Fry's 1972 debut Dreaming With Alice was initially only available in Italy, where it was recorded. Long out of print, both records were reissued after they were discovered and celebrated as lost classics by the leading lights of the then-burgeoning acid folk movement in the early 2000's, prompting a belated return to active duty. Unlike Bunyan, whose recently released second "comeback" album Heartleap has received considerable attention, Fry's return has passed by largely uncelebrated. South Wind, Clear Sky, Fry's third release since 2008's Shooting The Moon kicked off an almost insanely hectic rate production following the lengthy silence highlights just what an unjust state of affairs that is.

That said, South Wind, Clear Sky isn't exactly jumping up and down in an effort to catch our attention. Hushed and meditative to the point where the arrival of softly brushed drums on "Dials for Home" sounds like bombs going off, it’s the kind of a record that's seriously at risk of being overlooked amidst an ample selection of grand gestures and huge productions. Some might even argue its uniform tone and decibel-averse dedication to tranquillity render it a touch dull. They'd be missing the point.

2011's I Lived in Trees, a musically adventurous collaboration with the A. Lords, updated the musty, sitar- and flute-tinged psych-folk period piece vibes of Dreaming with Alice until they were fit for the modern times. South Wind, Clear Sky maintains its predecessor’s ethos of beauty, yearning for lost things and contemplation but with an increased emphasis on fully coherent songwriting and a consistency of sound where its predecessor seemed semi-improvised. The highlights provide some of the most noteworthy moments of uncluttered beauty we're likely to come across this year.

It's fitting that the songs are littered with themes of moving on and flying, as the small chamber folk ensemble - little more than two guitars, vocals and double bass - frequently achieve a silently electrifying lift-off. The highpoints - the warm strums of opener "Aeroplanes", the elegiac "Leave Me Where I Am", the slow motion piano sweeps of "Long Way Down" - are easily the match of the most mesmerising moments from I Lived In Trees, as well as making the psychedelic whimsy of Dreaming With Alice - still Fry's best-known album - seem a bit, well, silly. Even the less eventful cuts have a lot to offer, and the quietly contemplative mood - possibly an initial barrier to entry for some - soon becomes hypnotic, provided the record is given the attention it deserves.

Based on time Fry spent on the Inner Niger Delta of Mali, the genuinely stunning "River Kings" is even more impressive, the gently rolling and shifting music doing a compelling impersonation of the water's flow whilst Fry recounts a rich mixture of magic ("I can hear the blue men sing/the Delta mist is rolling in...”) and dread ("they'll down and rip our sails to threads/and turn this water ruby red...") in a voice that's an expressive tool despite rarely venturing far above a whisper. It's difficult to imagine anyone with a liking for Nick Drake or more recent believers in less-is-more such as Lambchop, Midlake (around The Courage of Others) or Songs of Green Pheasant (whose solemn lost masterpiece Gyllyng Street this album resembles in mood if not in actual style) not getting an awful lot out of this, or the rest of South Wind, Clear Sky, quite possibly the most under-sung album of 2014.