Kenny Anderson aka King Creosote recently said of new album Astronaut Meets Appleman: 'Sometimes it doesn’t sound like a King Creosote record at all. It sounds far too good'.

I’d like to disagree and agree that it does sound like previous KC albums, Anderson’s self-depreciating, seafaring poetry set to faux-folk music, but this time it all sounds, well, epic.

But what’s changed? After so many years, and so many albums, Anderson said about the recording process 'I wanted to push myself songwriting-wise, so I went in with hardly anything and had to wing it. I wanted to try and flip the clock all the way back to sound like a younger me or a less cynical me. In the past, I've been fixated on twisting and wrenching every line, but here I've let that go a bit, and I hope that lets you concentrate more on the music, on what’s going on around it.' This new focus has payed dividends as it’s his most cohesive and, dare I say, playable album.

The album opens with ‘You Just Wants’, seven minutes of drone-chamber-pop. Think The Left Banke with pulsing strings, chugging guitars and you’re on the right track. It seems to say: right, if you already know me, good, you know what I’m capable of. However if this is your first time this is what I’m doing. I’m accomplished and proficient. So sit back for 40 minutes while I entertain you…' The most impressive thing about ‘You Just Wants’ is that all the musicians get a chance to shine, because as Anderson says 'It’s not in a hurry to go anywhere'. This not hurrying permeates the album. Anderson has taken time to craft nine songs that know what they’re about, don’t try and show off his lyrical skills and generally pop and fizz throughout.

‘Melin Wynt’ opens with searing bagpies underpinned by what can only be described as breakbeats. He hasn’t gone electronica, but he is showing us another side to his personality. The break-beats sound like they were made from samples of fishing boats and wizened faced country folk. It’s this juxtaposition between technology and tradition that underpins the album and gives it its drive and dynamics. Lyrically though, it’s business as usual. 'It’s an anti-wind turbine song, from a place called windmill. There are no windmills there' Anderson recently explained. ‘Love Life’ has shards of Leonard Cohen running through it; it’s too upbeat to be Laughing Len, but the dark comedy is there. “Her jealous accusations know no bounds, Scarlett Johansson was never in my house” is possibly the lyric of the album. ‘Peter Rabbit Tea’ is the most abstract and beautiful song on the album. The vocals are handled by Anderson’ daughter, Louie Wren, as she babbles and title while melancholic strings under pin everything and add tension and drama where there shouldn’t be any. But isn’t this what Anderson has always done? Showing us how he sees the world and makes us either cringe its crassness or embrace it for the wondrous place it is?

After listening to Astronaut Meets Appleman a few times I derive the same amount of pleasure from it as the latest Steve Mason album. Both artists have been favourites of mine for a long time, and both have released their strongest albums in over a decade. There is an effortless vibe to Astronaut Meets Appleman can only be gained from a career doing your own thing and not caring about chat places and record advances. Anderson appears to be happy in his skin and has crafted nine songs that reference his past, but also hint to his future. Given Anderson’s prolific back catalogue and speed at recording and releasing albums we can expect his follow up as soon as you’ve finished reading this review, but I’m happy to bask in Astronaut Meets Appleman and remember why I got into him in the first place.