He’s already got a formidable body of work behind him. A leftfield folky outsider of sorts who can wring the most unlikely of songs out of his battered old and cheap acoustic, whilst utilising his voice in the most startling of fashions, sometimes a capella. But this is the first album – his sixth so far – where he’s got a band in tow. On the surface it might not sound too promising; a song cycle of sorts about the lives of the inhabitants of Bryneich, a kingdom in Yr Hen Ogledd (the Old North) in early middle ages Britain. But rather than don the pitiful olde worlde finery of, say a Ritchie Blackmore and waffle on about mystical creatures and alluring maidens. Dawson has carefully crafted a progressive-folk album that is both exhilarating and beguiling, as well as timeless in content. His objective was to create, “A panorama of a society which is at odds with itself and has great sickness in it, and perhaps doesn’t take responsibility – blame going in all the wrong directions,” whilst utilising a number of occupational archetypes, such as a herald, an ogre, a prostitute, shapeshifter, scientist, weaver, soldier et al. Quite unlike anything else you’ll hear all year, Peasant is a shoo-in to be on many album of the year lists.