Lucy Kitchen is a British folk singer-songwriter based in Romsey, Hampshire. She makes music spanning Folk, Americana, a little bit of Country, and infused with the feel of 70s singer-songwriters. Lucy's songs explore concepts of grief and loss. She is inspired by lyrical poets, nature, the seasons and making beauty out of hard things. 
In the search for touchstones she is often compared to the likes of Joni Mitchell, Beth Orton and, vocally, to Sandy Denny.

With two previous albums released on her label “Bohemia Rose Records”, and recent releases on RE:WARM Records on the Folk Funk & Trippy Troubadours Vol. 2 album and on Sounds of Southampton Vol. 3 she released “The Stabal Sessions” EP in December 2023. A sonic tapestry of melancholic melodies and personal storytelling, this was her first musical project since the loss of her husband to cancer in October 2022. Lucy’s new album, ‘In the Low Light’ is due to be released in early 2026. 

Lucy's unique blend of hypnotic folk music, combined with her evocative voice and emotive song-writing, continues to captivate audiences both in the UK and internationally. She has garnered radio features including BBC Radio 2, BBC Introducing, BBC Radio Scotland, Amazing Radio USA and Radio X. 

Lucy has been in demand for collaborations over the past few years. Working with a number of electronic music acts to write and record she has featured multiple times on BBC Radio 1 and in Mixmag magazine (“Majestic muse”). 

“Utterly beguiling” Clash Magazine
“Beautifully crafted collection” **** Shindig!
“A thing of beauty”- 7/10 Americana UK
**** RnR Magazine

AleaVerve 

Electronic Music DJ/Producer and Bass/Guitar player.

facebook.com/eduardopcunha

"tentando esfupremer o inexcropoloprimível"

Fabricado no Brasil

❄∞Ω∞❄

MORE TRACKS OF ALEAVERVE / MAIS MÚSICAS DE ALEAVERVE : 
soundcloud.com/edu-cunha
soundcloud.com/averve
soundcloud.com/aleaverve

(Músicas diferentes / Different tracks)

averve@rocketmail.com
averve9@ymail.com

Fontes: Freesound.org
            Deviantart.com

In his nearly 50-year career, former Led Zeppelin vocalist and Rock and Roll Hall of Fame member Plant has indeed gone to far distant lands, not as forlorn lover but as intrepid musical explorer. To write and produce lullaby and… The Ceaseless Roar, though, he returned to his native England, enriched by all he has seen, heard, and investigated. For the last few years, Plant has lived and recorded in America, working with musicians in Nashville, residing for a spell in Austin, and making time to drive along the byways of Mississippi, fueled by the sound of the delta blues that has inspired him since he was teenager (a car journey recollected in the new “Turn It Up”). He had previously traversed North and West Africa, following the trail of the blues back to the desert, where he famously joined nomadic Tuareg musicians and others at the renowned Festival of the Desert in Essakene, Mali. But now his creative wanderings have led him back to his native England and a rediscovery—and a reappraisal—of himself as an artist and songwriter.

While collaborating on record and on stage with bluegrass superstar Alison Krauss or hitting the road with guitarist Buddy Miller and singer songwriter Patty Griffin as part of his more recent Band of Joy, he largely performed other people’s songs: modern and traditional folk, blues, and bluegrass, trying to better understand and assimilate the particularly American sound of this music. His success, especially with Krauss, was extraordinary, and it expanded his fan base far beyond the world of classic rock. Plant’s knowledge and taste, combined with Krauss’s virtuosity, proved formidable, interpreting songs from Gene Clark, Sam Phillips, Tom Waits, and Townes Van Zandt, among others. Looking back, Plant remarks, “I was really happy to learn my trade, to extend my trade, so that I could make my way into the guild of good singers.”

Beth Hart is as real as it gets. In a music industry full of glossy production and airbrushed photoshoots, this is one artist who throws down her cards, shares her darkest secrets and invites you to join her for the ride.

Joe Pernice talking about James Walbourne

Never buy a used car. Whoever wrote that bit of advice was of a different time, a bygone era when money was cheap and it was assumed that regular people (that is, people who don't make records for a living) had enough of it to buy new.

When I was given a six-year-old Ford Taurus (I think it was in 1998), I couldn't believe my good fortune. When the transmission crapped out two months later, I made what at the time seemed like two good decisions: 1. I paid the $1,100 to replace the tranny. 2. I accepted an invitation to join an ill-conceived, sort of musical revue; an eleven date club tour of Holland. I figured I could use the dough to pay off the credit card used in good decision number-one. I was to do a solo acoustic set. There were three other acts on the bill. How bad could it be?

Well, it was a fucking nightmare on a number of levels. Here's the short form: Thirteen relative strangers in a shitty fume-filled splitter van with no AC in June; a maniacal tour manager who chain rolled/smoked "enhanced" cigarettes while driving; pipe-clogging, digestion-halting Dutch food (ham, cheese, fries with mayo); thirteen people crashing on damp, itchy Dutch couches in strange Dutch houses... and how can I put this delicately? You put thirteen musicians together in this kind of situation and someone could quite possibly end up strangled in their sleep.

We all spent the first two days "in country" exhausted, drinking, doing interviews, some radio sessions and too much "I think it's a good idea" handshaking with "influential Dutch club promoters." Honestly, during those first days, the only thing (besides personal financial debt) that kept me from telling the tour's ringleader to jam his tour up his ass was meeting James Walbourne (and Peter Bruntnell, with whom James was playing.)

The three of us hit it off instantly. James was 18 years old, and a really good kid, instantly likeable and sage beyond his years. Bruntnell and I are both at least a decade older than James, and like older brothers, we good-naturedly broke his balls to no end about little more than his limited sexual experience and the lack of prowess that comes with inexperience.

And then I saw James play. I was wholly unprepared. It was the first gig of The Bad Idea Revue. I thought they were going to blow. When you see two guys on stage with acoustic guitars, you say to yourself, "Please, God, make it go by quickly. And another thing, God, if you can, would you minimize the damage?" That's the kind of asshole you can become when you find yourself on a tour such as I was.

May I be struck dead right here in this Toronto coffee shop if I did not say to myself that night in Amsterdam that I was watching a true genius in James Walbourne. Not some soon-to-be-forgotten adolescent media creation "raised on the blues." Not some bullshit wankologist with a guitar shop perm who bores you to tears with cliched trips up and down the scales. Not even someone who was very, very good. This was a fully developed artist with other worldly ability. And he could sing like a motherfucker. And he was only 18. Guys his age were not in Holland playing shitty "character-building" gigs. Guys his age were home rubbing one out to Buffy The Vampire Slayer.

That was 1998. He has been a great friend and collaborator since. And he has been touring the world and recording with other acts since. Check out this partial resume:

- James records and tours with Pete Bruntnell 1998 - 2003
- joins the Pernice Brothers from 2003 - present day
- played with Jay Farrar in 2004
- tours with Son Volt from 2005 - present day
- toured with the Pogues in 2007 and 2008
- tours and records with the Pretenders 2008 - present day
- not to mention recording sessions and shows with Jerry Lee Lewis, Shane MacGowan, Linda Thompson, Death In Vegas, Saint Etienne, Bap Kennedy and Edwyn Collins amongst others

Now, finally, after being the sideman to artists smart enough to recognize his formidable talent, James Walbourne is standing tall before a great album of his own. It's called The Hill, named after Muswell Hill where he has always (and probably always will live.)

Since I am so good at dishing out advice (see PART I, Sentence I), here's a bit more with regards to The Hill.

1. Don't listen to The Hill if you prefer studio trickery to soulful and ridiculously talented people playing instruments with ass-kicking authority. I've told you how great James Walbourne is, but check out the rest of the lineup - Jim Keltner on drums, Ivan Neville on keyboards, Danny Williams (Black Grape) on bass James Fernally (The Pogues) on accordian and brother Rob Walbourne on second guitar. If you don't recognize some these historically significant players, well, I don't know what to tell you other than you have some serious makeup studying to do, son.

2. Don't listen to The Hill if you prefer some embarrassing lightweight fugazi wearing a self-absorbed-johnny-come-lately-poet costume to the real deal. James Walbourne is not too bored to tune his guitar, thank you very much. James Walbourne is not too polite to refrain from knocking you on your ass with his playing and singing. James Walbourne can talk (and play) the most obscure delta blues one minute and Orange Juice or Pussy Galore or The Replacements or Roger Miller the next. James Walbourne can bang out requests for Django Reinhardt b-sides all night. James Walbourne will go toe-to toe with anyone (and win) when it comes to Sondheim or Porter Wagner or just about anyone. James Walbourne's knowledge and understanding of music is so deep for someone of any age, it is, to put it simply, stupid.

3. Don't listen to The Hill if you prefer a bird's nest of disjointed and pointless song fragments to songs (and don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.) The man can pen a tune. When I first heard the songs on The Hill, I was reminded of Tommy Stinson's album Friday Night is Killing Me. Not because the songs are similar, but because with both albums, "someone else's player" steps out and pulls it off handily. (And no offense to Tommy Stinson, but he has never played an instrument the way James Walbourne does.)

Look, I could go on, but let me end by saying this: I cannot guarantee you will love The Hill, just as I cannot guarantee you are not a soulless degenerate bankrupt of all cultural currency and the capacity to love. That said... I give you James Walbourne's The Hill.

Catherine writes beautiful storytelling songs and hilarious parodies on guitar and keyboard. You can hear more songs and see photos by clicking the weblink above.  You can also get gig updates by following Catherine on Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/CatherinePaver

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