“Arcadian” is one way in which Chemikal Underground describe this record. “Pastoral” is another: “Pastoral”; obviously, this conjures up thoughts of Vergilian hexameters and Tityrus reclining lentus in umbra. Or maybe Calpurnius Siculus and his jolly little lines on the contrasts between Neronian Rome (a bad, bad place!) and the countryside. Maybe for those who’re more modern-ly inclined, Milton, Pope or Arnold jump to mind (WOT!? Is this for realsies?)

No seriously, I’m not off on one! Well maybe a little bit of one. But Adrian Crowley’s Season of the Sparks actually does have some points of contact with ancient and not so ancient samples of bucolic. There’s trees and there’s bees and there’s bees and there’s trees and leaves and ladders and beekeepers’ wives and horses and seasons and atmosphere and honeycomb and streams and did I say bees twice and also allude to other bee-related paraphernalia? That’s because they show up frequently, once even in the form of a cover of Ivor Cutler’s magnificently deranged “Squeeze Bees”.* Which is only slightly less deranged and is equally glorious as performed by Crowley, but fits in wonderfully with the prevailing soundscape. Opener “Summer Haze Parade” does actually have the lazy, languorous feeling of being in the shade prevalent in pastoral. Birds sing, rivers run. And carrying on through the record it turns out to be a collection that is moody and reflective – not in a sort of downbeat and melancholy way, but in an uplifting manner that has all kinds of secret joys hidden within.

At points I’m reminded of the sort of esoteric wonder that is encapsulated by Mercury Rev at their most relaxed (think moles and their little holes), although that’s really not the only way to describe Season of the Sparks, which is a record which really finds its own way towards swirling sounds and expansive choruses. Adrian Crowley’s worlds are ones which are structured, inventive and striking.

Et in Arcadia ego? Yes please.

*Two points about bees. Firstly, in Vergil’s Georgics, if you want to replenish your stock of bees, then you have to cut open a cow as part of a ritual. The bees swarm out of the cow. So now you know! Secondly, bees are following me around. Before I hit on Crowley’s LP, I was repeat-listening to Menomena’s “Evil Bee”. I expect that the next record I listen to will be wholly concerned with wasps and hornets. And bees.