ethereal experimental folk oddness. Bet he gets signed to warp.
Imagine a more accessible Animal Collective, music still rich in its sonic diversity, electronic, low-fi and strikingly original and you have Toro Y Moi. There is of course more to Toro Y Moi than an Animal Collective reference.

The sounds you hear are all produced by Chaz Bundick as a complete solo project, you may recognise him as the frontman for The Heist and the Accomplice (though i would be lying if I said that I did, I\'ve never heard of them/him). Anyway, his music is a kind of ethereal folk affair, experimental and featuring Chaz voice, distant and vaguely familiar.

You get the picture, better just listen for yourself...
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Waifish and frail... with authentic intensity
This week, from Edinburgh, a man who has rediscovered folkish pleasures sings to us of none other than the devil’s weed, this 8,000 year old weakness of ours. But, it turns out, as if rejecting the final psychological support available to a man all alone in the spotlight, there’s no cigarettes here at all. Down with that sort of thing.

The sounds and the words are insecure, diffident, but laid bare for us to judge or not, we are made to feel the masters of his destiny. Hopefully we won’t be disappointed to find him carrying on in spite of us.

Completely failing to hold back from comparing his voice to Neil Young is midway between annoying and rather flattering; it’s just to say that it’s a fine performance and a fine project.

At first listen Withered Hand sounds, well, a little withered perhaps, rather waifish and frail. Persevere, though, and the strength of Dan’s Wilson’s project becomes more apparent. He is singing with an authentic intensity: ‘...every song I sing is in a minor key, I have to write it down, I don’t remember, then I get it wrong’. Familiar territory for anyone who has tried to commit their life to music, and we should be behind him all the way.

Not so strange to say, there’s a whiff of Kenny ‘King Creosote’ Anderson here. And sure enough, the kindly Anstruther man has struck again to safely commit Wilson’s latest to print for posterity.

It’s impossible to tell where this man is going, this lonesome minstrel, who sounds utterly lost and as if he might fade away. But he isn’t fading away at all, and is fast becoming a favourite on the Scottish folk scene. Not to be sniffed at, this. There is no doubt at all that if you are following contemporary folk then this is an important marker stone for the urban-folk movement or, as Wilson called it in one interview, ‘anti-folk’.