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The Alphabet of Hurricanes reinforces his status as one of Britain's better songwriters. Using banjo and mandolin, he's made a beautiful, contemplative record.
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For the most part, though, the songs are spilled out softly in McRae's high, honey-coated voice, and are centered around humble-but-plaintive acoustic guitar and piano patterns. This proves to be just the right mode for a guy whose worldview is rather less than cheery.
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This is a far from perfect album, but at its peak it’s highly mature, seasoned music. Exhaustion clearly seems to be beneficial to McRae’s unique sound.
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UncutIt's a smart collection of songs full of inner turbulance, delivered in an emotional voice that at times recall Guy Garvey. [MAr 2010, p.90]
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Gone is the rawness of his debut and the innovation of its two follow ups. More worryingly, he’s missing the emotion that made those records so potent.
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Tom McRae is so desperately trying to convince us that he's still a curmudgeon and angst continues to fill his soul, but it sounds unconvincingly flat.
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For fans of those unabashedly earnest and heartfelt records that was filling up the charts between grunge singles nearly 15 to 20 years ago, Alphabet might come as a needed relief from today’s bearded, lo-fidelity folk stars spewing abstract poetics. For the rest of us, McRae’s release is just too dated and inflated to take seriously.
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Q MagazineThe hushed mandolins of "Still Love You" nudge it toward Sufjan Stevens territory and "Wont's Lie" is a witty gothic waltz, but neither does enough to atone for the mawkish excesses eleswhere. [Apr 2010, p115]