Inspired by centuries of human habitation on the ancient North York Moors, Over Ling and Bell was written in a secluded farmhouse there, mostly alone but sometimes with friends. It represents the fullest, finest, and most complete manifestation yet of Amy May Ellis’s nourishing nature songs. The circling guitar patterns and soaring vocals of ‘Wild Geese’ gaze skyward at the allegorical magic of flocking birds in flight. Shaped by sinister folktales, ‘Aud Mother’ celebrates witches, mothers and the power of friendship. Set to softly tumbling percussive loops, ‘Miner Farmer’ references Amy’s grandmother and her sister, who would walk from their dale over the hill to the neighbouring valley, carrying their dancing shoes for a night of revelry in the village hall. ‘Maybe We’ll Wake Up’ is a gently unfurling torch song written together with fellow singer-songwriter Uma Bunnag, while the album’s stunning, shimmering, dreamlike closer ‘Mondegreen’ was written with and produced by Sam Griffiths of York indie rock band The Howl and The Hum. Over Ling and Bell is fresh and youthful and yet crafted in a grand folk tradition, interrogating legend and turning the soil in search of meaning, healing and purpose. A scuttle of coal to light the long dark winter nights.

“It’s named after two types of heather that grow on the Moors,” writes Amy, of the story behind Over Ling and Bell. “When I started writing for this album I went for walks with my uncle around the dale and unearthed a whole load of history which rooted itself in the songs. I’d always thought of the Moors as wild, but during that time I started to see how they had been tamed by everyone who had lived on them. From the miners, farmers and peat diggers to the Mesolithic hunters who settled on the hilltops. 

“The history of the Moors led me to think about the taming of the wild things and everything we have done as humans to gain a sense of control over our surroundings and our lives. I wondered what we have lost with this taming. A lot of the songs are about illness, an inevitable product of a world where rest is a privilege and crisis is a constant. During the making and recording of the album, I had periods of feeling very lost and paralysingly scared. I found solace in ideas around navigating rather than taming wildness, and became obsessed with maps. I read Nan Shepherd’s The Living Mountain, Robert Macfarlane’s The Old Ways and dipped a toe into various philosophies. I still feel lost sometimes, but I’ve started finding things to orientate myself with.”