As I write this, the sun is streaming in through the window, a cool breeze is gently ushering the air around the room and even the most insignificant nuances of life seem to combine to become wonderfully vivacious. I suddenly feel that childish excitement that one feels when first exposed to the hazy colours and obligatory bearded-goat-men of a carnival. Is it any coincidence that The Mummers' first long player is providing the soundtrack to this surreal moment? In a word - no.

You see, A Tale to Tell is all about instilling magic into everything and anything - creating a fairytale from the mundane. The group's singer, Raissa Kahn-Panni, is no stranger to the hum-drum of everyday toilery. In 2001, she took a break from music to work as a restaurant waitress, while penning lyrics about her experiences. Just as Einstein lost himself in thought whilst working a menial clerical job, Kahn-Panni spent her hours crafting a wonderful fantasy land from the things she had to hand.

On the first spin of the LP, it's clear that Kahn-Panni interprets things in a different way to most. She sees a character, a life and a soul in everything. A prime example is shown in Nightbus, The dust it seems to be roused in flight / The trees look on without shame or fear. As the opening track suggests, she wants to be in Wonderland - and she clearly sets out to bring Wonderland to us.

The Brighton-based ensemble expertly blend classical instrumentation with pop sensibilities (a la Paul Mosley) while maintaining a pure optimism which fans of Gorky's The Blue Trees will relish with dewey-eyed nostalgia.

The Mummers' partnership with orchestral arranger Mark Horwood has proved to be a masterstroke in this project. The arrangements undulate and develop during each track, massaging the senses while remaining perfectly unobtrusive and natural-sounding. Woodwind and percussion flourishes flatter and enhance the lyrical performance, acting as unspoken adjectives just beyond the reach of language.

Kahn-Panni's vocals soar and meander, sensitively commandeering each track while remaining crystal clear throughout a wide range. A strong theme of escapism and fantasy flows through the album, shown in the standout track, March of the Dawn; Somebody said the heart should rule the head / Forget the mess I'm in. In the current economic and political climate, this sentiment is a welcome break from the media's seemingly relentless barrage on the shoulders of John Q Taxpayer.

As a whole, the record successfully walks the razor's edge between optimism and saccharine pseudo-contentment, where many before have fallen. It comes out on the right side thanks to rock-solid song writing and masterful arrangement, not to mention inspired performances. The perfect soundtrack to a summer's day, or a rainy winter with closed eyes.