There is a point on the drive along the M6 where the sky turns slate grey and darkens, while clouds the colour of Aberdeen tenements shift uneasily across the carriageway. From somewhere in the distance, The Pennine Tower crests the horizon - strangely alien but equally resonant with its surroundings. It doesn't matter what season, or what time of day - this always seems to happen.
Someday, these buildings will be our monuments. Their ancient purpose lost to modern interpreters.
In this collection of ten fragile and beautiful songs, Alan Davidson takes a journey through the grand designs, lost futures and civic infrastructure of a Britain that almost - but never quite - existed. The quiet, delicate arrangements seem to amplify the underlying tension, and the hushed vocals echo around the spaces that the music leaves.
I'm proud to finally release a Kitchen Cynics recording on Traumatone, an event that is many, many years overdue.