Described as “The folk-punk Nick Drake of Cardiff”, Burn the Ladder doesn’t bandy words. Be they spittle-flying rants about the joys of late-twenties renting, beeswing-tender ballads on the human condition, or the chronicles of the first men ever to attempt agriculture, they ring true like slogans scrawled by back-alley prophets. They have the wit of a practiced troubadour and the homegrown wisdom of a thousand bar-room debates, all weaponised to devastating effect with sweeping, willowy vocals. Sinister when they feel like it, cynical when they can’t help it, and sensitive when you’ve earned it.
A veteran performer bearing the scars of many stages, Burn the Ladder cut their teeth out in the west country. After soaking up the rustic song-structures and harnessing that rousing folksy fingerwork they returned to their old home of London to test their skills hosting and performing on the cities famous open-mic circuit. Now armed with years of experience they take their impressive catalogue of self-penned songs to the stages and streets of the great Welsh capital.
In their latest album “Sin & Soil”, Burn The Ladder combines the rich story-telling of traditional folk music with the sensibilities of a modern british malcontent to reflect on the bigger questions in life; each song paints a picture of hope, sorrow, joy, or fury. It was written and recorded during a pandemic induced lockdown with the help of a talented found-family and is their most-ambitious work to date.