Although not completely eschewing the politics of Westminster which can so enrage him, and which has been peppered on his previous solo albums Black Water, and Make The Hard Earth, and via his work with the multi-award winning progressive-folk group Lau – stories of migrants, homelessness, etc. Drever’s first solo album in six years is a more nuanced, earthy, and uplifting affair, as he wanders through the highways and byways of those time-honoured subjects; love, relationships, family, identity, dreams and wishes, longing and home-life, but also with a little bit of satirical political comment here and there. Perhaps this isn’t surprising when you consider that Drever has recently moved to Shetland, with his new partner, and has just had his first child. New and/or imminent additions to the family have a way of concentrating the mind into these rather important, more self-centred matters, albeit Drever adroitly extrapolates these thoughts towards the universal. And that combined with a move into roots, country, jazz and acoustic, along with his first and foremost love, folk music, means that If Wishes Were Horses is a striking departure, being both a beautifully conceived, and a richly rewarding listen. As he has said, "On this record I wanted to make the more personal material relatable on a universal level."

While previous albums featured the likes of out-and-out folkies Phil Cunningham, Tim O’Brien and John McCusker, the band set-up this time around is a slimmed down unit of just Ian Carr on guitar, Euan Burton on bass (electric and double) and keys, and Admiral Fallow’s Louis Abbott on drums, the generally rhythmic playing perfectly complimenting the soft Orcadian tones of Drever, such as on the lead track, the outwardly resigned 'I Didn't Try Hard Enough'. Underlying the jauntiness of the shuffling percussive beats (featured throughout the album), the rhythmic acoustic strumming, and the sunny guitar lines, is the shrugging of shoulders as Drever repeatedly sings 'oh well' towards the end of this simple tale of missed opportunities, and dampened regrets. It's closely repeated on the only cover on the album, 'Capernaum', originally performed by traditional Scots folkies The Tanahill Weavers, who themselves based the song on a 1920s poem by Lewis Spence, and one of many songs here that features the dual guitar interplay of Carr and Drever, sometimes using just acoustics, at others both an acoustic and an electric.

'If Wishes Were Horses' is the cantering title track, that's aided by some measured trumpet and electric guitar lines, along with the now familiar gently percussive beats of Abbott, and is about the futility of wishing things to be different from what they are, particularly those wishes of an imaginative bent…. "I wish that politicians ties would tighten up when they told lies" is just one of these desires, delivered with tongue-in-cheek, but of course always with a strong hint of hope!

Elsewhere, 'When We Roll In The Morning' is a love song, founded on a slow country-like groove, supported by just bass, guitar and a more forceful drum beat. It's beautifully delivered, as is 'Shipwrecked', this time underpinned by gently chugging and shuffling percussive beats, and a tasteful guitar motif, in this simply expressed song about longing and how we can’t not get back home these days.

Drever slows things even more for the languid 'The Longest Day', electric guitar providing the melody and textures before Drever's ever-so-slightly weary vocal comes in, belying the humorous content of part of the song: “And when I kissed you then, among the frogs and and the weeds… A million years ago." This then segues into 'When The Shouting Is Over', Drever’s melodic whistling setting things off, before turning into another poetic, and again, graceful celebration of communal life and living: “When the race is running, the shouting is all over, come on home.” Similarly, 'Don't Tell Me That' (Human Nature) is a slow grooving number underpinned by a deep bass, Drever's guitar work (as well as that of Carr) again showing him to be the antithesis of flash and show. Instead his elegant and subtly complex lines full are of nuanced expression, even if the song is seemingly about a disagreeable argument between the protagonists.

And 'Hard Year' is a mildly railing, but jaunty little song in the style of mid-70s Dylan, in defiance of the pernicious defeatist spirit espoused by fear-mongerers, this time Drever aided by Yolanda Quartey on vocals: "Grab your chances before you go, you probably won't choose the day you die."

There are one or two underwhelming cuts here, such as on 'Five Past Two', a song seemingly about little more than wasting time, but overall this is the most eclectic and warming set of songs Drever has ever put his hand to. An album of classicist songwriting, that has plenty of musical flair on offer, but which is justifiably dampened throughout, the opposite of Lau. And, it's all capped off by his expressionistic, and yes, universal lyricism. Via Drever's association with Lau, hopefully word will get out that this boy can sing and write brilliantly, too.
Jeff Hemmings