Ribbons

There is a classicism to the songs that give Ribbons a mature, lived in feel but also dislocates it from any specific era, giving it a unique and distinctive feel.

With Ribbons, it is clear that Bibio is trying to take the best parts of his music over the years and bring them together into one concise, but eclectic, album, and on more than a few moments, he succeeds beautifully.

A record that focuses on fleeting glimpses, on liminal evenings and burgeoning mornings, it’s imbued with sublime melodic flair and a lingering atmosphere that echoes after the final note has been plucked gracefully from Bibio’s well-served guitar.

On Ribbons, he turns familiarity into a virtue: In channeling sounds of the distant past, he brings something new to his customary swirl of birdsong, babbling brooks, Fairport Convention 8-tracks, and other rural accoutrements.

The inviting nature of this record is well worth the time. It’s Wilkinson’s most picturesque and organic album, easily playing somewhere in the background on a summer day.

Wilkinson has once again proved his complete mastery of bottling a certain tone to his music through the right craft of sounds. With Ribbons, he has bottled springtime.

Bibio’s Ribbons is a folk album made with a beatmaker’s perspective.

Ribbons is by no means a stand-out album from an illustrious career and it is not the most memorable of works, but it is a solid, enjoyable folk listen that is perfect for optimism in the sunshine, and, hell, we all need a bit of that right now.

In this patchwork quilt of a record ... there’s plenty of space to lift from it its choicest moments and discard the rest.