Quinta – My Sister, Boudicca

You'll probably have heard of Quinta thanks to her work with Bat For Lashes and Orphans and Vandals (creators of one of this years finest albums). This is her debut album and to say that expectations are high is something of an understatement.Things start well with the instrumental 'They Come, The Burning'. A light rolling piano motif tumbles out of the speakers with an incessant determination as various instruments join in slowly building towards the end. Eschewing the usual premise, which is to build towards a tumultuous climax, Quinta merely allows everything to drop away until a solitary violin is left quivering in your ears. It's quite a beautiful opening.'James and The Ocean' follows on and introduces us, belatedly to Quinta's voice. It's every bit as delicate and otherworldly as her instrumentation would suggest. Not one to over do the dynamics, she simply does what is needed, much like Bjork in her more contemplative moments, or a subdued Kate Bush. She has a stunningly beautiful lilting voice, you get the idea.All the more impressive is how many instruments make an appearance on this album, and that Quinta plays them all herself. From quirky little interjections on the violin, or repetitive clarinet patterns, she's behind it all. She's like a kid in a school music room. If you can hit it, blow into it, or bow at it, then it's probably found its way on to this record. God knows what she did to that Clanger that makes an appearance on 'At The Top of Bear Hill', but if he has indeed passed over, at least his last little song was on an undeniably pretty tune.The title track comes across in a haze of choral outbursts that amusingly has a heavily distorted and flanged guitar fighting to be heard in the background. It's the church like Yin to Sunn O))) druidic Yang. It also feels lightly tongue in cheek in the juxtaposition of styles.'Reading To Me' employs an accordion and what sounds like a saw to introduce a mournful string part that could break your heart. There's a sea shanty feel to it, but you rather feel that any oceanic adventure of which this song was a part of could only end in disaster. Quite why Quinta feels the need to insert a crackly spoken track that enthuses about the glory of the kitchen is anyone's guess. It shouldn't have a place here. It feels wilfully destructive; far too knowing. It's practically the only place she lets herself down on My Sister.As the album comes to a close, you get the idea you've just been to the most peculiar recital you're ever likely to experience. Quinta comes from a different place, and a different age. This is a record that should come sepia toned and draped in lace. It's not so much stunning, as intriguing, and there aren't enough albums these days that are genuinely fascinating. This one is. Cherish it. 71%Quinta on MySpace