Jack Scoresby. Maybe the name doesn’t invoke in everyone the same respect and gratitude that it does in me – but that’s only because not everyone knows him. Yet.
I remember Jack emailed me a long time ago and told me he wanted to buy a print. And then emailed me back about a week later and said he couldn’t buy a print anymore because he spent all his money on his birthday party. I looked at the pictures from said party, complete with blow-up castle, lap dances and more alcohol …

It might be easy to say that William Fitzsimmons is a weaver of lullabies; in fact, the title of this album almost clinches it. Goodnight snuggles in cozily next to other neo-folk craftsmen like Iron and Wine and Sun Kil Moon; it plays like an acoustic music box, largely free of percussion, twinkling with curiously intricate rhythms both gentle and quiet. The harmonies are beatific; the vocals often tremulous and hushed to near-whisper. It is blue and beautiful.
But these songs aren’t lullabies; not really. It’s a subtle difference, but Fitzsimmons doesn’t …