Someone who doesn’t understand English or has a rare disease which makes them incapable of hearing lyrics, will miss the entire point of Songdog’s latest album, “A Life Eroding”. Without the addition of the lyrics, you’ll find slow burning, folk tinged songs with a relaxed feeling about them. Pay attention to the vocals however and pictures of loss, sorrow and sharp reflections of modern society shred their way through the façade of calm. This dog has bite.

If you haven’t heard about them yet, now is definitely the time. With a former playwright and poet as vocalist and lyricist, Songdog plumb the depths of the human condition with an unparalleled, pithy eruditeness. Sombre, sweeping melodies are kicked into brash new territory with the gentlest of whispers from Lyndon Morgan and whilst the results aren’t a happy sound, they are melancholically beautiful.

‘A Life Eroding (So Much Sorrow)’ is a case in point. Gentle guitars lull as Morgan sings about how much sorrow there is in the world whilst ‘1979’ looks back on what once was with both a great deal of fondness and pathos. The modern day fable ‘It's Raining On the Old Cat’s Grave’ is just brilliant and my personal favourite from the album.

Broken relationships and the regrets they cause are rife throughout and make for some of the best songs on “A Life Eroding”. The brutally, painfully honest ‘3.30 AM (Small Talk)’ featuring Jasmine Nelson, tells the tale of the chaos which ensues after daring to ask a now married ex why you aren’t together with the help of one too many, "“There’s a hole in my life”, I said, “the exact shape of you.” And then the conversation dried up.” Realistic and easy to relate to, Songdog also know how to inject humour into potentially depressing situations, "I went straight for his balls, but man! Jerome punches harder than the heavyweight champion of the world…"

Along with the themes of sorrow, loss, love, sex and heartbreak which are fairly standardised in modern folk, Songdog throw a curve ball into the mix with their added fixation with the Old West. Whilst ‘Elaine’ opens with a guitar twang that John Wayne would have been proud to sidle onto the screen alongside, general cowboy references and images of gun slingers pop up throughout (‘Gene Autrey’s Ghost’ being the most obvious example) and the use of Mariachi sounding guitars and lyrics like ‘I took a ride… feeling homesick’ add to the general, sun parched, hard living, horse riding imagery. Think Nick Cave and ‘Red Right Hand’ and you’re on the right track. Combined, it gives “A Life Eroding” a very American feel, which from a band with roots in the quintessentially British towns of Blackwood, Edinburgh and London, is quite an achievement.

Marrying together all of the main themes of “A Life Eroding”, ‘Obediah’s Waltz’ is a brilliant, dark, macabre and eccentric piece which really shows off the theatrical leanings of the group. Muffling the vocals, the Waltz arrangement add the gravitas of age to a modern day folk song of jealousy and obsession ending, descending further into madness before ending in the declaration ‘Says old Obediah, All men who touch her must die!’

“A Life Eroding” is a quiet album with loud messages. It’s sensory, evoking images at every turn and its story driven aspect requires full focus. It’s so easy to miss crucial aspects of each song unless you grant it the proper time and respect. It’s earthy and intellectual at the same time and not quite like anything else around at the moment. It doesn’t pack an immediate punch but if given the correct sort of patient attention, reaps its own rewards.