Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros - Here

As perhaps music's most undousable genre, folk has found itself plenty of contemporaries and fans in recent years. The widespread critical acclaim of artists like Fleet Foxes, Laura Marling and the Leisure Society has proved that it still has much to offer after the decline of political masters, and it's even found its way into the mainstream with sleeper hits such as Noah and the Whale, Mumford and Sons and, in 2009, Edward Sharpe's inescapably pretty Home. Now, much to my chagrin, it's impossible to sit through a commercial break without some cutesy folk girl covering a classic song, and hopefully the backlash against the likes of Birdy and Charlene Soraia shall continue to bloom. Saccharine, capitalist nonsense.

That pop charts continue to embrace all things acoustic and multi-instrumental might serve as some kind of blow to its credibility, however, is daft. The Leisure Society's 2009 record The Sleeper was one of the strongest and most beautiful albums of recent times, and a continuing birth of new talents such as James Vincent McMorrow and Michael Kiwanuka serves as a reminder of its strength. This particular California dectet, however, are yet to convince some of their worth.

Beyond the hopelessly catchy and lovely Home, then, the Magnetic Zeros deliver up 'Man on Fire', a slow-building call to "come and dance with me" that even manages to squeeze in a didgeridoo. At the same time, though, it's wonderfully quiet and serene, and just an all-around nice song. 'That's What's Up' does its best to persuade us that there's more to the band than cute little inspirational ditties, and jerks out some distorted guitar solos, but never truly lets go. Wisely they return to a conventional rockabilly rhythm on 'I Don't Wanna Pray' that sees the advocacy for a less dogmatic spirituality, which is fine and lovely in its own little way. Hums and organs make for a rapturous reception in 'Mayla', which boldly announces "we're building us a new horizon".

Throughout the rest of the album you're effectively pitched line after line of sentimental and idealistic nonsense set to pretty charming backdrops: "Reaching for Heaven is what I'm on Earth to do" ponders 'Dear Believer', "love is something to believe in" yearns 'All Wash Out'. But for a brief glimpse, on 'Child', there's a genuinely stirring and moving storytelling lyric, poised without the liberal strings and eccentric instruments.

They're just ultimately let down the silly reggae attempt of 'One Lover to Another' and the horribly shrill vocal on 'Fiya Wata'.

I'm sure they'd be utterly enchanting were you to see them live in some Autumn evening with a glass of cider and a red chequered picnic blanket but, on record, the group sound restrained and unimaginative. The songs are too obviously pitched and contain no real originality. They're just quite nice. They're the music equivalent of finding a 10p on the floor.

Rating: 5/10
Highlights: Child, Man on Fire, Mayla
Avoid: Fiya Wata, One Lover to Another

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