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| | Alasdair Roberts - “Farewell Sorrow” (Site not responding. Last check: ) |
 | | Whenever we think of Home, in humble deference to its capital letter, its importance, our mind rests on the handful of neighbours we know by name, the stairs up which with sodden voice we sing through a weekend’s dark, the stranger’s usual faces, the light that settles in the comfort of the corners, the familiarity. |
 | | Roberts’ record sits in stark relief, then, to this (or, my) cultural memory of Scotland, it’s an album characterised by, made special by its lack, its refusal, its withdrawal from the modern. |
 | | Roberts’ magic(k), however, isn’t to be found in the simplistic ‘breaks & continuities’ rhetoric of musical tradition but in the refusal to cede defeat to a living he can’t feel and won’t sing. |
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