The Leither has been trying to catch up with the girls from Blueflint for quite some time now, but they are very busy, and so are we here at Leither Towers. To put it another way, they are in the middle of a marathon tour to promote their new album High Bright Morning, stopping of at a slew of radio stations along the way, whilst we have been indulging in the usual jiggery pokery. Their slog also took in a fine performance of their signature tune Skippin’ Skattin’, on a dreadful programme – STV’s The Hour – which they took to a better place for a merciful three minutes. At this exact median point, The Leither listened in, over pints of wallop and mini pakoras in the Alan Breck lounge bar. So you can see that the chances of our paths crossing was about as likely as the X Factor becoming the Ex Factor.

Contrite then, when one bedraggled morning, a beautiful package arrived bearing a waxed seal with a baroque ‘b’ stamped on it. It came with an equally lovely letter, which availed your errant journo of a few salient points. Blueflint are a bluegrass duo who, unusually, combine two distinct banjo playing styles, three finger picking and clawhammer. They write original songs of love, loss and revenge. You will find them filed under Alt Country/Americana in your local record store, if you can find your local record store.

Billy is the author of 66 articles including 'Blueflint & Bluegrass' from December's Leither

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The beautiful package contained the equally beautifully packaged High Bright Morning CD, of which more, now. Your correspondent’s early morning demeanour is such that it was the quieter songs that grabbed his attention. The plaintive Takes More Than a Little Time, soothes a fragile temper. The keening, wistful title song sounds like something centuries old. Hints of the Carter family in the musical intertwinings and the Roche’s in the harmony vocals. The joy creeps up unseen, both Funny Little Girl and Skippin’ Skattin’ – the latter surely the first song to reference dolcelatte cheese – would not be out of place at a Louisiana hoedown. Black Horse is a drinking song, which is to say a song to be sung while drunk, the suitably queasy trombone adding a touch of Tom Waits circa In The Neighbourhood.

Happy endings then? Oh, I think so… The girls and I – sorry, that would be Deborah Arnott and Clare-Louise Neilson – never did quite catch up but, through this fine album, I feel I know them a little better.

High Bright Morning is available online, in record shops or direct from: blueflint.org.uk