Hypernormalisation (2026).

"Cometh the hour, cometh the man"

With Hypernormalisation Sam Draisey has provided us with thirteen songs that speak directly to my own personal world view.

My echo chamber now has a tailor made soundtrack, but that's alright because we all could do with hearing something that doesn't make us feel so alone in this forever discombobulating world.

He's an artist who is cut from the cloth of the traditional folk protest singer, but rather than lean heavily into any folk scene purity he's playing the judas card by adding a punk attitude and street level indie aesthetic to his songs.

Hypernormalisation would certainly sit more comfortably with albums by The Levellers and The Men They Couldn't Hang rather than Mumford and Sons, but that's not a dig at the latter, as each to their own, but think of it as a description note that provides a guide to a better understanding of where he is coming from.

Another reference point would be the Cooking Vinyl compilations.

Once upon a time they would provide me with a rich source of material that I would then go on to explore. Rory Mcleod, Oysterband and Rev Hammer are a handful of artists that I discovered, and went on to love, from their label promotion collections, and while listening to Sam I'm reminded of that period of time.

His songs could very easily have rested on one of them, and I would have certainly followed up on hearing him with a purchase from their catalogue.

I've been toying with calling Hypernormalisation my favourite album of the year, but only toying with it because there are so many more months to go.

But there's a lot to like about it.

Scratch that. To love about it.

In the 1800s Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote a sonnet that lovers have carried on through the centuries when they couldn't find their own words to say how they feel.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

Well there's thirteen reasons on this album that covers why I love it.