Hannah Frances – Keeper of the Shepherd
Alternative Folk | Progressive Rock | Jazz
86%
I write this a week into December. 2025 looms on the horizon, and the music industry has begun winding down. No longer concerned with new releases, instead for a time choosing to look back at the highlights of the past 12 months. For me it’s an opportunity to delve into some of the records that passed me by this year – of which, as ever, there are many. Those that evaded my radar entirely, as well as those I simply didn’t have time for; piled to one side as I’m forced to move on to the next latest thing.
Though Keeper of the Shepherd came out back in March, and a mountain of new music has been released since then, it managed to keep sifting its way towards the top of the pile whenever I’d get a spare moment to consider tackling my album backlog. Even when it felt like there were newer albums which were a “bigger priority”, something about it kept pulling me back. The artwork would catch my eye for the 50th time, and I’d get a few tracks in before pushing it to one side. Thinking to myself “at some point I’ll sit down and give this record the time and attention it deserves”. That time is now, it seems.
The elements that first piqued my interest absolutely stand up to further scrutiny. The way the record is able to play with intricate prog rock approaches, and layer on more and more orchestral elements, without losing sight of its folk aesthetic, is one of its greatest strengths. The off-kilter meandering melody of ‘Bronwyn’, with its interesting time signature, has been one of the most attention grabbing track-ones of the past year. There’s a hint of Jeff Buckley there, alongside something altogether more ancient and mystical. It twists and interweaves like the knotted roots of some gnarled old oak. The title track has a superb driving beat and sense of momentum (even if the chorus does rapidly outstay its welcome), ‘Floodplain’ pairs Hannah’s warbling vocals with an elaborate folk guitar arrangement which at times feels like a collaboration between Joni Mitchell and Nick Drake, while ‘Vacant Intimacies’ rolls and pitches like a ship upon a stormy sea as the sublime woodwinds and brass spiral towards a grand climax.
The album’s most ambitious endeavour however is its closing track ‘Haunted Landscape, Echoing Cave’. Its shifting moods and time signatures take you on a mesmerising journey. All the stops along the way remain a mystery, but by this point you’ve begun to trust in the route Hannah Frances has chosen. From simple bluesy stomp, to densely knotted folk, to a jazzy sax solo that veers briefly into the psychedelic at its apex in a way that reminds me of the guitar in ‘Maggot Brain’. It ticks a myriad of boxes for the prog fan in me and exceeded every expectation I had for the album’s capacity to weave such complex tapestries of sound.
The fact that I enjoyed the progressive folk elements that drew me to the record in the first place is hardly surprising. What is surprising is that after spending more time with Keeper of the Shepherd I found that these were no longer my favourite moments. Instead I found myself spellbound by the quieter moments that stripped it all away. The soft romantic arrangement of ‘Woolgathering’ has a sparseness which commands your attention. Listening to it is like uncovering an old jazz record, blowing the dust off the grooves, and dropping the needle on the most incredible outpouring of beauty. It almost feels like the arrangement is leaving space to be filled by the crackle of vinyl.
We can hear a similar space explored on ‘Husk’; it opens with that kind of hold-your-breath quiet where you just want the whole world to stop so as not to disturb the moment. Perhaps it’s fate that I saved this record for winter, as here it feels like a cosy warmth radiating through you on a cold, quiet evening. There’s a hymnal quality that seems fitting for the season. It fills the space slowly, the harmonies growing, strings ushered in from the ether, until by the end you’re being comforted by a choir of angels. It’s in these highlights that I feel like I made the right call in saving Keeper of the Shepherd for a rainy day. A moment when I can shut out all other distractions and give it my full attention. Next time a quiet evening comes along, I highly recommend you do the same.
