Ugh, on first glance I thought ‘the Stones’ would be some simpering married couple – but no! Thankfully we’re spared the prospect of an album’s worth of sad old serenades; they’re in actual fact a brother sister duo from Sydney, with none of that ambiguous incest stuff going on (take note Jack and Meg).
In this mini-album Angus and Julia graciously divide song duties as they alternate taking the lead through their set of trilling, gentle acoustic tracks. Julia’s style is notably the more chilled of the two; her breathy, ethereal outpourings of heartache are fragile and deathly, while her brother’s contribution is slightly more upbeat with the addition of some ridiculously twee lyrics, like in the overly cheerful ‘Mango Tree’. Their styles subtly contrast beautifully and the overall show of simplicity in bared down acoustics and rattling drums, with the added warmth of the occasional cello and a lonely piano, is perfect for accompanying a lazy afternoon spent lying in bed. The only thing is, now I’ve become attached to their tales of love and pain, if I find out they’re in actual fact divorced I will not be best pleased.
