Few private pressings have acquired quite the mystique of 'Unsung Lies'. Julian Mount's 1973 debut under the Weaselsnout name survives in fewer than 100 copies, commands over $1,200 at auction, and earns a full five discs for rarity in Hans Pokora's 4001 Record Collector Dreams — the kind of credentials that place it firmly among the holy grails of the English folk underground.

The record itself, cut at home in North Watford on an open reel tape machine, is a quietly extraordinary thing. Mount's original songs are filled with gentle eccentricity and unhurried melody, his acoustic guitar and warm, conversational voice carrying the spirit of the London folk clubs he frequently played. There is a lo-fi honesty to the whole enterprise that feels less like a limitation than a quality — something intimate, unguarded, and entirely of its moment.

Seelie Court's deluxe reissue brings Unsung Lies to the wider audience it has long deserved. Extensive liner notes, drawn from conversations with Mount himself, tell the full story behind a record that was never meant to be rare — and never stopped being remarkable.