Laura Cannell’s latest album, Brightly Shone the Moon, offers a murky and melancholy twist on familiar Christmas standards, marking her darkest exploration of yuletide yet. The violinist, known for her previous seasonal works such as the sparkling Winter Rituals EP and the starker New Christmas Rituals, delves into the time of year when, as she writes, “joy and heartache try to exist together”.
The album opens with an organ piece, nodding to Cannell’s childhood Christmases in Norfolk’s Methodist chapels and churches. Her fiddle then quivers around the 16th-century folk melody of O Christmas Tree, as if the carol is swirling in a snowglobe, trying to settle in memory. All Ye Faithful follows with murky repetitions of pre-chorus passages, where love feels stuck, rooting around like an animal in the ground—a sonic reminder of winter’s smothering and strenuous nature.
Beauty emerges in tracks like Lost in a Merry Christmas, where high melodies flurry prettily and melt together. Bleak Midwinter has an urgent, icy rush, replacing melancholy with a frisky hope. The apocalyptically titled Angels Falling from the Realms is the warmest track, full of flickers of long-forgotten hymns. This album is not for parties or tree decorations, but one that carries you hauntingly through the passing of time, with slips of ancient songs lighting the way like Christingles.
