Album Review: King Creosote & Jon Hopkins - Diamond Mine

A collaboration several years in the making, Diamond Mine sees Kenny Anderson, AKA King Creosote, let Domino Records' labelmate and electronica artist Jon Hopkins add an entirely new backdrop to a small selection of his sizeable back catalogue. Comprised of just seven unearthed songs, the pair’s work together may not have be hugely comprehensive at first glance but this is previously unheard material undoubtedly worth hearing.

There is certainly some continuity of style between this and Fence Collective founder Anderson’s excellent 2009 album ‘Flick the Vs’; however, Diamond Mine relies heavily on the coherent theme of KC’s homeland of Fife in Scotland. This is evident right from the outset where we find ourselves in a tea house in Anstruther on ‘First Watch’ which sets both the mood and scene: A melancholy piano refrain slowly makes its way to the fore as the clatter and chatter of the shop owners disappear into the background. It’s clear too that Hopkins hand here is subtle but by no means insignificant.

The individual songs will contain few surprises for King Creosote fans - acoustic guitar, aching vocal and lilting accordion, but this time they are supplemented by some sumptuous production and additional instrumentation. The music is delicate and given a lot of room to breathe which allows the listener to be whisked away to the coastal villages in which many of these narratives are set. ‘Your Own Spell’ is wonderfully orchestrated whilst ‘John Taylor’s Month Away’ climaxes in a stunning swell of vocal, electronica and seagull!

Lyrically the record is as affecting as the music is breathtaking. Relationships are the focal point of much interrogation here. ‘Running on Fumes’ asks “why do we bother with all this fighting especially at our age” whilst ‘Bubble’ (which contains a disarming duet with Lisa Lindley-Jones) states that “I won’t let you fall as low as I’ve been”. Throughout, Anderson gives us a glimpse of what he, at times, perceives to be an empty and ageing existence. This is most striking on ‘Your Young Voice’, written about his daughter, where Anderson’s repeated refrain insists it is her who is “keeping me holding on to my dull life”.

In an age of track savvy downloading, it is refreshing that Diamond Mine can (and probably should) be heard as one piece of music, drifting in and out of your consciousness. Many of the tracks merge into each other, requiring close attention if you are going to unlock its many hidden treasures. And while this writer wishes the duo had delved a little deeper into Anderson’s own treasure chest to push Diamond Mine further over the half-hour mark, it remains a mesmeric and involving album that makes Fife feel like home.