James Yorkston
Moving Up Country

It’s a frustrating feeling to sense hopeful glimpses of future genius, only to have your expectations dashed when you realise what you’re listening to is merely mediocre, at best adequate.

So is the story with this debut album from Scot nu-country acoustic botherer James Yorkston. While his upbringing in the self-confessed ‘make-your-own-music’ desolation of a small village in Fife has undoubtedly shaped the rich and beautifully arranged nature of ‘Moving Up Country’, it’s a double-edged sword.

Because, lost in the tranquil splendour of Scotland, the final results are earnest, definitely, but just a little too nice, whimsical and, ultimately, largely forgettable.

Unlike the way that coming from Southport (instead of the US of A) was a positive influence on Gomez’s career, James Yorkston’s critics would almost certainly be queuing for, ahem, a country mile to sing gibbering praise, if only he had been born on the other side of the Atlantic.

Unfortunately ‘Moving Up Country’ lacks the magic on show from darker American peers like Smog or Will Oldham, and has none of the inspired quirkiness that sets apart the finger-picking eclectic wares of fellow Gaelic troupe Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci.

Still, expect to see James on the next Reindeer Section album anyhow, seeing as he’s Scottish and indie and all.