Kevin Hume

Although he has recorded as Black Spartacus before, The Truth About Ants and Aphids is Kevin Hume’s first proper solo release. Enlisting the help of classically trained musicians, Hume has shaped a chamber folk album dappled with jazz tinges and Nick Drake-isms. He plucks images from nature for lyrical inspiration — the record’s all Spider wolves, pink clouds and wild wind. The problem is all these animal characters will do nothing more than spark a craving for a dose of Joanna Newsom’s Ys. Both records employ a similar narrative style, except Hume’s attempt at allegory isn’t nearly as sophisticated. In this lyrical void, Hume’s representation of traditional folk doesn’t go down quite so easy. Hume is clearly a talented composer and arranger — look no further than the lovely "Glacier Bay” for proof — but there can’t be many occasions for cracking out ditties that conjure images of wood nymphs and naiads frolicking merrily around a maypole.