There comes a time in life when each and every single one of us finally understands that man cannot live on anger and nihilism alone. It’s in that moment that those of us locked in the confines of our scenes peek over the parapets of the fortresses that we’ve built for ourselves and begin to register the majesty and beauty of the world outside of the one that we’ve been completely and totally enshrined in for too long.  In that split second, that’s when you realise who you are and that your heart, while forever captured by the scene you’ve emerged from, also beats to the sound of a myriad of different drummers and that it isn’t just punk, or Hardcore or thrash that you love, but music as a whole.

One of the many pipers that call the tune to which my soul dances, is Americana and the folk music that is a fundamental part of its identity. After the Flood absolutely belongs to, and is resolutely part of, that tradition. Every atom of Matt Heckler’s being  is indelibly stamped on, and runs through, the eleven melancholic, plaintive and oddly uplifting songs that After… is built upon, existing as it does somewhere between the more obscure elements of bluegrass and country, high in the Appalachian mountain fog. A beautiful, almost mournful album that asks for nothing and offers everything in return, After the Flood will linger long in your memory as it takes you by the hand and guides you through the majesty of the places that exist outside the walls of your self-contained kingdom. It’s time to open the door to a new world…  Tim Cundle