The Cave Singers – No Witch

‘Authenticity’ is fetishised in folk and rock alike. It’s a vague, unempirical concept, the application of which relies upon a paraphrasing of Potter Stewart’s assessment of pornography: “I know it when I see it”. It can’t be measured, but those suitably steeped in a scene’s canon recognise it at once. The Cave Singers’ avowedly traditionalist debut passed the sight-test, but follow-up Welcome Joy faltered by introducing less convincing rock numbers.

Third album No Witch finds them move closer to the resolutely retro likes of The Dead Weather and further from the folk icons referenced at their outset. They mimic multiple Mojo cover-stars – Led Zep-esque blues drives Black Leaf, while Outer Realms echoes Summer of Love psychedelia – but no guise feels natural, save quieter moments like Distant Sures. They’re stretching their sound, but in the process they’ve diluted their identity, and it’s difficult to get excited by the residue. [Chris Buckle]