Album · 2017

Tin Kettle Hours

Ten phone-recorded kitchen-table songs about jars, shirts, biscuit tins and the small things that hold a family together.

Tracks

1. StarterThis was the very first song I put online, written about the jar of sourdough starter I was keeping alive on the counter. It felt right to open with something that needs patience.kitchen folk, lo-fi folk3:59
2. Quilt of Old ShirtsI cut up one of my father's old shirts to make a quilt and the song came out with the scissors. It still smells a bit of him when I sing it.pastoral folk, bedroom folk3:55
3. Pocketful of ConkersConkers were the first thing I thought of when I tried to remember being small. I wrote it in ten minutes and giggled through the second verse.nursery folk, lo-fi folk3:37
4. Won a Jar of MarmaladeI really did win a jar of marmalade at the village raffle, the only prize I have ever won. It's the happiest song on the record and I'm not sorry.kitchen folk, playful folk3:32
5. The Recipe Card in Her HandI found a recipe card in my grandmother's hand in an old biscuit tin and sat on the floor reading it for an hour. The song is mostly just that hour.pastoral folk, heirloom folk4:05
6. Stopped at Ten Past ThreeMy grandad's watch stopped at ten past three and nobody ever wound it again. I wanted to write about the time that stays still in a drawer.bedroom folk, hushed ballad3:20
7. Candle EndsThere's a drawer in the pantry where the candle ends live, and I only open it when the power cuts out. This one is very quiet, quieter than I meant.cassette folk, hushed folk5:00
8. Borrowed Coat, Borrowed KindnessA stranger lent me their coat at a bus stop on a night I'd missed the last bus and my phone was dead. I never got to return it, so I wrote this instead.warm acoustic, bedroom folk3:21
9. Thank You for the SoupA neighbour left soup at my door when I was ill and I never thanked her properly. This is my late thank-you note, sung through a cold.cosy acoustic, kitchen folk3:15
10. The Sound of Rain on the Shed RoofI pulled a chair into the shed doorway and recorded the rain as it came down. It felt like the right place to end, listening instead of talking.field-recording folk, hushed folk4:56

Liner notes

I recorded all of this on my phone at the kitchen table in Bristol, after my flatmates had gone to bed, singing so quietly I could hear the fridge in every take. I never meant it to be a record; I just uploaded the songs one by one and people kept passing them along. The tin kettle on the cover is the one that still lives on my hob. If you can hear the rain on the shed roof, that was real, and I left it in.

Wren Hallett