Glasgow-based Richard Youngs is a ridiculously prolific artist with about 736 recordings to his name (I jest slightly, but he’s probably not that far off), either solo or with a series of collaborators. Essentially you could pin him down to being a purveyor of minimalist folk-blues – a kindred spirit with the drone of Jandek, however in his time making records he’s also turned his hand to techno, pop, laptop experimentalism and finally, deciding to overcome his fear of performing, adding vocals to his work. Now that’s what you call facing your fears head-on.

Never someone who you would turn to for a comfortable, easy listen, Richard Youngs is still an endlessly interesting and inventive creator of music. New record Amplifying Host (out 25 July on Jagjaguwar) sees him turn back to simple finger-picked minimal free-folk, but with double-tracked moaning vocals and occasional instinctive jazzy drumming courtesy of Damon & Naomi‘s Damon Krukowski. It twangs like Ry Cooder’s work circa Paris, Texas and has an otherworldly feel akin to Neil Young’s Dead Man soundtrack. There’s even a bit of Dylan Carlson’s dust-bowl work with Earth in there. What sets it apart from those aforementioned albums however is Youngs’ voice, which makes it an incredibly unsettling album to listen to. There’s a pain in the vocals – intended or otherwise - that adds an intriguing depth to the songs, and without which, some of the sharper electric notes that Youngs wrings from his guitar may have been a touch difficult to listen to.

After a gentle introduction, Amplifying Host really hits its stride with the 13-minute ’Too Strong For The Power’. With mainly wordless vocals, Youngs sighs and moans his way through the song, accompanied by utterly beautiful acoustic arpeggios and stabs of electric dissonance, before it floats away in an ambient haze. It’s almost western in its execution, but that western world is situated on another planet, the gravity bending those notes and manipulating them into twisted blues.

‘Tessellations’, which has been available as a taster for the album, is all off-kilter acoustic notes and occasional flute, with Youngs doomily intoning “days” in between lots of “oh-oh-oh-oh-ohs”. A tessellation is a pattern of figures with no gaps or overlaps, and Youngs appears to be bemoaning the existence of one long day on the track, and it’s certainly the most miserable-sounding song in this collection of miserable songs. It’s followed by ‘Holding On To The Sea’, which sounds like a Roy Harper folk number that’s been battered out of shape after being dropped down a hundred flights of stairs.

‘A Hole In The Earth’ is the prettiest moment on Amplifying Host, with lovely teased melodies and Young actually crooning quite sweetly, but it’s also punctuated by howls of electric guitar just to make sure you don’t get too comfortable listening. Final track ‘This Is The Music’ benefits from the first actual strumming of the record, and Krukowski’s gentle drumming patterns make the track almost (almost!) skip to its conclusion.

If you’ve never liked the work of Richard Youngs, then Amplifying Host is unlikely to change your mind, but if you’d like an entry point into his work then it’s better starting here than with, for example, the infamous reading of 171 used train tickets that he once thought was a good idea. I’d never wholeheartedly recommend this record to anyone due to the uneasy listening aspect, but it’s an intriguing record and if you want a challenge, then this is for you – there are nuggets of beauty to be found in the darkness.