Cousins Kieran and Kishore Ryan’s age, not to mention their moniker, conveys a youthfulness that belies the weather and maturity in their work. This self-titled debut features exquisitely crafted numbers, delicate and considered in their composition yet intensely executed. It’s astounding that this is their debut.

Barebones opener ‘Mirror Drawings’ languishes in the melancholy of a broken romance, as Kieran opens up: “I used to think I was a solo pilot/Set to fly across the sea alone/But there’s a scar running down my ribcage/Where you were cut from me so long ago.” The unexpected but still withdrawn drum fills and guitar stabs that close out the song’s eight minutes throw its timbre into red relief. While a tension might seem to present itself here – laconic and supple, hurried and fiery – it’s always reconciled by thoughtful placement and a constant subtext of sadness.

‘Sunday Bus’ and ‘Landslide’ are worth mentioning for the further sides of Kid Sam they reveal. The former is a wilfully Australian ballad of everyday loss that recalls Sodastream’s ‘Keith and Tina’. It too evokes a brutal landscape and dark union as a man chases his fleeing wife across the desert, rifle in the front seat. Like Sodastream, Kid Sam have found ways to revivify and add complexity to the two-piece folk setup.

‘Landslide’, an alienated, beautiful song in the vein of Radiohead (no kidding), shows the ever-so-subtle control of dynamics the duo possess. Rising vocals mesh with tiny changes in guitar plucking, creating an affecting crescendo that is so much more than the sum of its parts. It’s also one of the few songs to feature the distinct metallic clang of cookware, one of those potentially divisive idiosyncrasies – some might say gimmicks – that certain bands employ. While it announces itself initially as a distraction, pretty soon you realise how well Kishore’s pots and pans work as a textural and rhythmic device. They propel and add gleam to the song and are used sparingly so as not to grate.

I could continue on, singling out all the little sublime moments that have stretched themselves into my inner-world. I won’t, save to say that Kid Sam have created a uniquely colloquial but still universal aesthetic with this work, a moving and timeless record.

by Lawson Fletcher