Limited edition of 200 copies.

Reissue of the self-released LP in 1994 in an edition of 20 lathe-cut.

As Stefan Neville suggests: "... the first time I heard anything about Donald McPherson was when my friend David Muir told me excitedly about this guitarist from Ravensbourne who could play really beautifully properly but also just as wonderfully wrongly. I first heard him playing a rare live performance in Dunedin in about 1997. It remains one of the most heavily self-deprecating sets I've ever seen. Abandoning songs halfway through, Donald couldn't contain his belief that his efforts were worthless and that he hadn't practiced as much as we were idiots for listening. He made a good show of appearing not to care but the quality of the few pieces of music he did play showed a personality and idiosyncratic natural ability that could only come from the most meaningful places. And he was totally right... we were idiots tolerating any old shit, just as he was an idiot for being so ridiculously good. Donald is most well-known for the free range guitar instrumentals of his Bramble CD (Metonymic, 2001) and the Vinegar & Rum collaboration with Tetuzi Akiyama, but it's his 1994 album Some Songs that his friends and fans hold in the highest regard. It sparkles with beauty, wit, and wonder and it crumbles under its own self-sabotaging cynicism. Lyrical flowing folk melodies with playful irritations and grafted on textures, bare-boned hyper-sensitive pop songs, and scrambled spontaneous sketches. Donald always sounds to me like he is resisting his talents as they are too embarrassing, but at the same time embracing the chance to express everything he is feeling no matter how awkward or humiliating it may be. It seems like such a crippling difficult perspective to create from but Some Songs always sounds playful, honest, humble and hopeful to me!"