Nepotism rules the roost in the world of pop. From the countless and terrifying Disney spoors to the hipster associations of Lana Del Rey, having the genetic clout to top your million pound PR campaign is essential. Unfairly assigning success in this way implies that talent is something you can buy over the counter of Harvey Nicks’ most exclusive stall, and with a large number of famous kids very publically screwing up, it’s unsurprising that the world has picked up on it. Unfortunately genuinely gifted musicians with a known famous relative are often tarred with the same brush and expected to fail.

This is probably why despite following Mary Epworth’s career for over a year, it only recently dawned on me she’s Paul Epworth’s sister. She doesn’t publicise it – she has no need to. For Mary, good press goes arm in arm with the quality of her music. I’d argue that she deserves far, far more recognition than Dream Life has currently acquired – something reflected in the album’s several rescheduled release dates.

‘Long Gone’ is the first string to the psych-pop maestro’s bow. Opening Dream Life with an epic clout, it’s got the emotional fervour of a diva princess matched by the billowing harpsicore of the ’60s’ zeitgeist. Like ‘Black Doe’, the second track on the album and 2009’s sophomore single, the song demonstrates Mary’s unparalleled ability to draw from a decades-old source without it sounding liking a pastiche.

Much of the album is dedicated to the softer side of Mary’s repertoire, drawing from her well-documented Sandy Denny and Carole King influences. But Dream Life is no folk love affair; it layers rich sound textures and spacious harmony too heavily to be considered part of the genre. Instead ‘Two for Joy’, ‘Six Kisses’ and ‘Those Nights’ play like psychedelic records on the wrong turntable setting. Though it occasionally feels like passing through mud, it’s oddly endearing. ‘Sweet Boy’, ‘Heal This Dirty Soul’ and ‘Come Back to the Bough’ break through the murky waters just enough to gasp a well-needed breath of crisp production, but it’s the delirious ‘Trimmed Wing’ and euphoric ‘If I Fall Now’ that save Dream Life from consuming itself in roomy experimentation.

Bundled together, the eleven tracks of Dream Life demonstrate a musician who knows herself and her music very well indeed. Inherently shoegaze, occasional splices of melody filter through the studio ruckus and reveal the jewels of Dream Life‘s fairy dust crown. But above all, Dream Life establishes Mary Epworth as a force to be reckoned with. Paul who?