Trevor Moss & Hannah-Lou

Indigo Moss are one of the most original-sounding British bands to debut in years, and they do so by looking abroad--and into the past--for their influences. The clue to what makes their sound so original lies in their name (Indigo Moss being a pun on bluegrass), and this South London band take this traditionally American musical style and make it into something wholly unique and quite special, much as the Pogues did for Irish folk. And when you think about it, there's nothing unusual in a bunch of Brits playing bluegrass music--bluegrass itself is based on the folk music of the British Isles, and they share common themes of death, betrayal and redemption. But don't for a minute think that this album is a downer: "Dang Nabbit" is a jaunty banjo and harmonica-led tune that can deliver the line "You're a lying, low-down, cheating parasite" with clap-along cheerfulness. In fact, most of the songs on Indigo Moss could soundtrack either a funeral (the straightforwardly-titled "Suicide Song") or a hoedown ("The Sweet Spirits o' Cats a Fightin'")--or some strange combination of the two ("Nature of this Town"). Best of all, Indigo Moss display both originality and talent on this debut album, proving that being novel does not make them a novelty. --Robert Burrow - Amazon.co.uk

From the blankets, picnic chairs and beach cabanas spread out before the main stage, I wondered if I'd stumbled on a huge village fete - albeit with a better class of musician playing than the local pub band (although they're here too, and the morris dancers). And overheard gossip was less the'Hey, I've just seen Kate Moss' kind, more 'Good Lord, isn't that Nigel Havers?'
Cornbury aims to be family-friendly, with plenty of face-painting and sideshows to keep kids happy, plus natty beach huts for some lucky overnight campers. But that brings its own challenges: would I catch any band's entire set before one or other son desperately needed the loo? Could the couple in front take the parasol off their Bugaboo so we could see the stage?
Scratch the surface of today's thirty- or fortysomething parent and you'll find a big music fan underneath. The line-up provided a good selection of up-and-coming acts for them to savour: the prodigious Seth Lakeman, who can play a tricky fiddle while belting out a fine song, Scott Matthews, the Broken Family Band, offbeat Texans Midlake and Indigo Moss, whose comely banjo and bass players drew especially appreciative applause. But the headline bill had a determinedly 1980s feel - the Proclaimers, Suzanne Vega, Hothouse Flowers and Echo & the Bunnymen. Watching the latter provided a surreal taste of how times have changed since they last headlined a festival. Ian McCulloch (above) lit up a fag at one point, and when a roadie dashed on to the stage moments after, I thought it was Thames Valley's finest coming to arrest him. And during the Waterboys' performance, instead of blazing comets lighting up the evening sky, hot air balloons were cheered into the air behind the stage.
- The Observer

Country music's always had a somewhat of an unfair rap. Yes, it may be the soundtrack most associate with inbred hicks downing a bottle of moonshine, then knocking their wives about to the strains of a Kenny Rogers number, but it's also got soul by the barrel load, buckets of truth and darned good fashion sense.
Discovering that cowboy hats aren't just for hen nights, the UK is experiencing a boom in bands and clubs in love with country and western's ol'-fashioned, barn-storming appeal. Inspired less by alt country acts such as Smog and Bonnie Prince Billy and more by the old school likes of Waylon Jennings, Gram Parsons, Johnny Cash and any other southern chancer who looked passable in a Nudie suit, this new generation offer a distinctively British take on these mean, mean men who loved Jesus and whiskey with equal veracity. Cambridge's the Broken Family Band are a former post-punk gang who began playing the music as a joke, but soon realised there was far more in it. "You shouldn't take the piss out of country music, because it's actually very beautiful," says the group's lead singer Steve Adams. "When we began to take our music more seriously, all the country stuff stayed with it, and so did all the stuff I misunderstood at first."
Sometime Broken Family Band collaborator, and a Loretta Lynn-worshipping ex-pat of the American midwest, Piney Gir puts its resurgence down to the influence of film: "Hollywood put Johnny Cash back in the spotlight, and before that the soundtrack to O Brother Where Art Thou reminded people how great country music is," says Piney. "Going to a country club is a really good night out and you don't have to worry about being cool."
Elsewhere, Kitty, Daisy & Lewis are the underage family trio that wouldn't look out of place at the Grand Ole Opry, while south Londoners Indigo Moss are ploughing the bluegrass furrow and Scotland's Gilded Angels play western standards. "It's the sound of everyman for everyman," starts Gilded Angels' pedal steel guitarist Mark Stewart. "They're songs for lovers and fighters, the lost and lonely, for those who want to rip it up and do something at the weekend, even if it's wrong."
Hell, even Mike Skinner is planning to make a country album, so look out for the Streets at clubs like London's Sin City, which gets crammed with lasses shuffling to the sound of the Flying Burrito Brothers. In fact the club's so popular it had to shift to a bigger venue last year due to the masses of denim-clad desperados clambering to get in.
Southbound, Sin City's country and southern rock spin-off night starts next month. Then there's Hillbilly Hop, a night that mixes Nashville-flavoured 1950s swing and rockabilly. You can also hear the clicking of spurs up past Hadrian's Wall, with El Rancho Relaxo entertaining the Glaswegian cowpokes and Ride This Train doing the same in Edinburgh. Dolly Parton tours the UK next month, so if you fancy a bit of a country knees-up, there hasn't been a better time. Well, not since 1970.
- The Guardian