Beloved by a compact group of fans and ignored by everyone else, cult artists continue to release music that is pretty much heads and shoulders above the stuff that sells millions. In that long list, the name of Peter Bruntnell stands out for a number of reasons. One is that he has been delivering quality songs for more than 25 years; another is because the likes of Peter Buck, Willy Vlautin and Kathleen Edwards have been extolling his virtues as and when appropriate.
ou can guess by his admirers that Bruntnell favours an Americana approach, yet his style isn't as obvious as it might seem, and from one album to the next he tends to assuredly twist this way and that. With Journey to the Sun, the man whose songs NME once noted should be placed on school curriculums has done
it again.
While Bruntnell might be one of the music world’s most unassuming songwriters, his songs are inherently immodest – they regularly burst with the spirit of human kindness and are melodically lush, with meaningful multilevel lyrics, and (here especially) o depths of layered instrumentation. What he doesn’t have is a music industry bigwig on his side, working on if not world domination then at least indie/outsider movie and television sync opportunities.
That’s such a pity – on Journey to the Sun, not even a misstep cover of Francis McPeake’s Wild Mountain Thyme spoils the fun.
peterbruntnell.net
