Recommending music is a dangerous business. Especially when you say things like 'this album might already be in the top five'.
Caveats aside, I find it a little tricky to remember a time when I have listened to an album in such a sustained way, especially when it's just the regular four or five blokes with guitars, drums, piano in the corner of the studio, etc.
But I checked with my friend Ros (the naked ping pong expert), who understands the excitement that this sort of music might bring. He thought that he could hear this lot playing the lute. He compared them to a famous medieval composer (whose name I have forgotten), which to me is a good thing, even if I can't hear the same things as he can. To be honest, I still get slightly amazed that I'm listening this music in the 21st century, when by rights everything should sound like Neu crossed with the Mondays crossed with Kraftwerk crossed with N*Sync. But maybe I just get up too early and listen to music too loud in the car at the wrong hour.
This week's album of the week is Fleet Foxes, by Fleet Foxes. Complaints to the usual address.