Edinburgh in the grip of a haar is quite a thing to live through - the sprawling medieval authority of the Old Town and the austere certainties of the New becoming transfigured and unmoored under the weight of dense blankets of vapour.

It’s from within this shroud that James Yorkston’s new album (his fourth) emerges, a pensive collection of lushly arranged folk. Part of the Fife-based Fence Collective, Yorkston enlisted the aid of the Watersons for this outing (Lal contributing the superb ‘Midnight Feast’), his melancholic vocals established on a firm base of acoustic guitar and piano, warmly supported by piano accordion, vibraphone, clarinet, mandolin and wine glass (!).

It’s Yorkston’s lyrics that provide the cement however, his vital albeit slightly cracked voice delivering almost off-hand a stream of meditative connections with a crooked half-smile. This is an album of unobtrusive weight, leaving a freshness in the air once it winds to a close.