A thing about Blue Roses...

Talking about Blue Roses without using hackneyed and tired clichés is quite hard, not because she isn't any good (she's bloody fabulous) but because she makes the kind of genuinely ethereal and otherworldly alternative folk, that is often mediocre, and occasionally amazing. In her case, obviously, she's the amazing brand.

Softly lilting piano and guitar riffs, icy and yearning violins, lyrics about singing (or sinking) into the night all carried seamlessly along by Blue Roses' (or Laura Groves) frail, haunting voice. Her debut album (the eponymously titled Blue Roses) was released earlier this year on XL and is well worth your money. In a year that, allegedly, belongs to the flawed and almost accidentally amazing Florence, Blue Roses proves an entirely credible, uncontrived and gloriously haunting treat.

We missed her at Latitude, and we're gutted. Find her here on the interwobbles.