Album Review: Deforestation - 50 Days of Rain (2025)

Written: 20th September 2025

Having followed his incredible but perennially under the radar musical projects for many years, any venture involving Adrian Jones (Nine Stones Close, Jet Black Sea) immediately piques my interest. Add in gifted keyboardist and composer Brendan Eyre (who recently joined Nine Stones Close) - known for his atmospheric, melodic work blending rock, ambient and progressive influences - and you have a duo that have produced a wealth of wonderful music.

The seeds of the Deforestation album were sown in late 2019 when Adrian and Brendan decided to collaborate as a duo, inspired by their shared love of instrumental music. With no set direction, they began trading demos and soon produced between twenty-five and thirty pieces over the following year. Some ideas grew individually; others evolved live during Zoom sessions, with field recordings adding atmosphere. Highlights included Adrian’s late-night dobro track, later enriched by Brendan’s textures, alongside setbacks such as Eyre’s lost recordings. From this creative outpouring, they selected thirteen tracks, ten of which made the final track listing. Adrian Jones comments on what the pair wanted to achieve with the overall feel of the album, “Music that could take you somewhere else, another place, another atmosphere, another time, another dream, and music that also reflected the world around us and what is happening to our environment.”

50 Days Of Rain begins with the persistent beats of Coda. Built around a compelling keyboard motif, the track builds its layers steadily with bass and synth lines introduced as it progresses. Dark maelstroms swirl during the central section and Jones’s guitar makes stabbing, haunting appearances adding further ominous tones. Looping in subtle spirals, the themes fold back on themselves, chimeric and incantatory. With a track entitled Coda opening the album, it suggests that we are entering the final stages of opportunities to save our planet and what follows is a commentary on what could be done to help or what we have done to leave us in such a precarious predicament.

Cold is far more ambient in nature and begins with the feel of distant winds, wide open space and an atmosphere of desolation. Metronomic piano is soon joined by tender guitar which weaves a thread of life through the barren expanse. This leads to further shoots of colour and vibrancy with both guitar and sparkling piano backed by warm synths creating a vision of nature thriving against all odds. At times, there are moments that remind me of The Rainbow from Talk Talk’s wondrous Spirit of Eden album. As listeners, a feeling of hope blossoms within us as the track develops. Although a little under four minutes long, Deforestation manage to create the feeling of passing time and life finding a way.  

Third track, the two and a half minute Lonely is constructed around the beautifully constructed acoustic guitar riff of Jones. With an urgency and showing no desire for rest, the guitar is backed by ominous synths bringing depth to the sound. Towards the end of the track, tribal chants, instruments and distant conversations are heard, a stark reminder that our decisions about the environment usually affect those far from us: out of sight and out of mind.

Scattered throughout 50 Days of Rain, certain tracks unfold like a ticking clock, acting as a subtle countdown that underscores the pressing need to confront the ecological mess we have created. Zoom is one of the best examples of this. A recurring piano motif echoes both the relentless ticking of time and the steady drip of the water we waste every day. Low strings draw out feelings of longing for a better time while Jones’s exquisite guitar interjections keep us focused not allowing the listener to drift away. Sunlight, which opens with the sound of carefree birds and distant winds, is pastoral in approach and for the most part builds feelings of confidence that the world is still an amazing place. Again, the interplay of Eyre’s piano and Jones’s acoustic work is agreeably unhurried. They have allowed themselves the opportunity to take the sounds of the album wherever it leads them and it has given the music a freedom in expressing everything they have to say.

Bow takes another turn with timpani-style drum beats, and Jones is at his most insistent on the album thus far. There are moments when it seems he might burst into one of his trademark solos, yet the summit forever recedes, like a climber who doubts the peak will ever be reached. This tension heightens the sense of striving without resolution, of a world that always pushes back. Later, choral vocalisations pulse and coil between the instrumental layers, adding a luminous, otherworldly dimension. It is one of my favourite moments on the album.

With Nine Stones Close, Jones delivers guitar solos alive with energy and daring. Here (with the exception of Vapula – more of which, later), he shifts most of his focus to nuance, painting the music with emotional depth, subtle light and shadow, and delicate textures - a task he navigates with ease. As both a songwriter and guitarist of exceptional skill, his work deserves far wider recognition. Brendan Eyre is the perfect foil, his piano, keyboards and synths layering colour and movement, tracing delicate currents and glimmering motifs through each passage.

Glades is the most bucolic song to be found here. Bubbling water, birdsong and the distant crackle of wood paint a lustrous picture of life and the unrelenting beauty of nature. Gentle acoustic guitar threads through the track like sunlight flickering across the forest floor, while cello lines stretch and sway, echoing the calm grace of trees and the soft stir of wildlife moving through the glade. Woodwinds flit and hover above the texture, suggesting the delicate hum of insects and the subtle motion of the unseen ecosystem. Together, these instruments conjure the quiet pleasures of sitting alone in a secluded spot, fully immersed in the rhythms, textures and wonders of an untouched natural world.

JAOP hints at Jones’s love of Japan through the use of traditional stringed instruments. Introspective and restrained, it is a piece - like many here - that unfolds its delights slowly. During its five and a half minutes, on the surface, little seems to occur, yet the measured pacing and delicate emergence of sounds draw the listener in, revealing hidden charm and intricate detail. Penultimate track Klaus finds Brendan Eyre making full use of his range of keyboard and synth styles and techniques. It is a piece that would not be out of place on a Tangerine Dream album. Another slow burner, musical threads intertwine and stretch, forming a quietly growing tapestry of sound.

Final track Vapula finds Deforestation fully spreading their wings, delivering a seven-minute piece that touches on many of the album’s styles. It opens in darkly ambient slow-moving wraithlike tones, each sound drifting with a spectral weight before tension gradually accumulates - hinting at something approaching. When Jones finally lets the guitar loose, it is a thrilling cinematic eruption, soaring riffs and cascading phrases filling every corner of the track.

50 Days of Rain is an immersive, compelling record that rewards focused attention. The music drifts, coils and occasionally erupts, carrying the listener through landscapes both intimate and expansive, while constantly reminding us of the fragile beauty of the natural world. Listening in the dark at full volume or through headphones is essential to catch every subtle shift, cascading guitar line and atmospheric flourish. The album is both a celebration and a meditation - on music, on imagination and on the environment - urging reflection on what we have lost, what endures and what might yet be preserved. Beguiling, dynamic and thought-provoking.

50 Days of Rain is released on 26th September 2025. Available here:

CD (with bonus tracks)

Vinyl

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