- In an Australian context, ‘dark’ folk music all too often takes the form of whiskey-voiced, male-oriented downer Americana, the authorial focus largely on convicts and bushrangers, the themes pure Peter Carey or John Hillcoat.

This format has allowed for some great music — from Jeff Lang to Mike Noga — but a wider palette is always refreshing. Enter Cash Savage and the Last Drinks, whose powerful sophomore album The Hypnotiser successfully navigates an original path through the often-turgid waters of Australian blues.

The Victorian seven-piece does this principally through sensitive musicianship. The band are tight and dynamic, leaping deftly from the hollow-eyed country of Bareknuckle Boogie to the drunken Early Morning Come Down Blues with a fluidity that neither feels showy nor skimps on emotional impact.

It is Cash Savage herself, however, who weaves these Technicolor threads into the stuff of a great album. Simply put, her deep, throaty voice is incredible, conjuring woe, bile and homespun humility with effortless panache. Like a cross between C.W. Stoneking and early 90’s Tom Waits via Gareth Liddiard, Savage knows how to inhabit a character, which she does convincingly, be it the arsonist of 95km To Sandy Point or the rueful murderer on Howling For Me.

Savage’s fusion of musicality, vocal pyrotechnics and conceptual theatrics comes together on the Gothic title track, a swampy stomper that lurches from Baptist preacher-like howls to a climactic chorus backed by a 15-voice choir that recalls Warren Ellis’s stellar work with The Bad Seeds. Like staring at the sun or drinking straight whiskey, the tune is stark and damaging yet deceptively warm.

It was probably inevitable that I would invoke Nick Cave at some point. The comparison to Savage’s approach here is clear, particularly on the fragile Something Better. However, while The Hypnotiser recalls, for instance, the melodic balladry of Cave’s No More Shall We Part, at times I would prefer it to be more like Murder Ballads or even Tender Prey.

In other words, Savage’s themes may be hard but her songs are often a little withdrawn, never quite stooping to Michael Gira-like horrors. The lyrics are also a little clumsy at times, such as the slightly diegetic couplets of the otherwise intense divorce narrative Five Boys One Farm. This is a record you can impress people’s parents with or overhear in a bookshop over breakfast, an exercise in darkness that is powerful but never truly chilling.

That being said, The Hypnotiser remains a stunning achievement, an inspired exercise in light and shade that is eminently listenable throughout. Tellingly, its best moments are actually its most beautiful, such as the gorgeous gospel-flavoured single I’m In Love. Clearly, Cash Savage isn’t out to shock: she has a grander purpose. And with a voice that damn powerful, who cares?

- Henry Reese