Leo Abrahams is a man who is in danger of having his music overshadowed by his CV. Look him up and that CV glares at you from seemingly every corner of the internet, listing all the A-listers he's worked with, all the lucky breaks he's had and the skill with which he has exploited them. Having heard all this without having experienced his albums, you might expect The Grape and the Grain to be some epic second coming, a widescreen opus of some description, but what it really is is a wonderfully restrained, melancholy and quietly brilliant instrumental folk album. Largely comprised of acoustic and electric guitars, piano, and a smattering of subtle percussion, this is a record that is simultaneously stripped-down and lush, covering a great deal of ground across 11 tracks totaling a little under fifty minutes.Not an in-your-face but rather a growing, relaxing album, there's nevertheless a great deal of depth here. The tracks slowly unfurl, often repeating a core theme but layering additional instrumentation onto that theme to develop the music idea to its climax. Abrahams is reluctant to spring all his traps on us at once, but rather prefers to craft something more meditative, something more affecting in the long term. There's something timeless about this - opener "Masquerade" sounds appropriately archaic in some ways, with its repeated, chiming guitar framework over which slightly mournful strings are painted. There's something strikingly Irish in style about it in parts too, fading in and out, creating an ethereal yet instantly accessible atmosphere.Slower to unfurl is "Spring Snow" which is a six-minute track which pauses roughly half way through, dividing it into a pair of neat audio stanzas. Like much of the album it's irresistably bittersweet. In fact, the serene and instrumental nature of the tracks, and the fact that they often seems almost designed to make your imagination wander, make The Grape and the Grain feel at times like a soundtrack to a non-existent film. It's rarely in your face, but rather it's fuel for thought and contemplation. This limits the album's appeal in a sense, because it means that it's not something you'd listen to every day or on repeat - but nevertheless, this is an intriguing, affecting album which creates a unique and alluring mood. 81%Leo Abrahams on MySpace