Light In The Attic has an impeccable reputation for uncovering rare and precious albums from the past. Their latest release, Sylvie, is haunting and out-of-time--but it is also a brand-new, original debut album, by a singer-writer who has been making music since she was a little girl but just for herself. Like Devendra Banhart says, Sylvie is 'a gem of an album, fragile and fearless, direct and poetic, timeless and absolutely beautiful. Like Rosalie Sorrels meets the Only Ones.' Or Isobel Campbell on a lost desert night, maybe, with only the moon and a ukulele for company. The raw, delicate, and sensual songs about love and love gone wrong are performed on a ukulele, which here sounds like a broken harp or a heartbroken guitar. 'I'd always thought of the uke as a toy, a little handful of happiness,' says Sylvie, 'but not any more. My first ukulele--in fact all my ukuleles--came to me by accident, under strange circumstances usually involving mysterious, vanishing men. From the moment I picked it up, I fell in love. A uke has a sad, fractured sweetness and a modesty. It doesn't try to impress you, it almost apologizes for being there. The notes are like feathers; you play them and they're blown away in a second. And yet these songs kept coming through this tiny instrument with all their heartbreak and truth intact.'