Sunken Treasure: awesome music you may have missed

Very occasionally, enlightening moments occur when you chance upon a record so refreshingly real and natural it renders all other music a tad contrived or forced. The moment can feel like a chance encounter with a working well in a time of drought. There’s nothing quite like the pure drop to slake a thirst.

For the explorer, discovering new music that speaks directly to you is the Holy Grail. When a new sound enters the fray, space opens up, be that room to breathe, dance or roam. The songs of Artur Nunes cover all these angles.

His Soul of Angola collection is an oasis I'd recommend you seek out next time you have 40-odd desert days and nights to kill. It's a mirage made in heaven. There is something so unhurried, effortless and truthful in its makeup. So much music we hear vies for our attention in all sorts of obvious and often insidious ways, but Soul of Angola is devoid of any discernable pitch, deal or agenda. It's utterly disarming and endlessly comforting. It's a record I'm always returning to and it never fails to deliver.

This is an inexhaustible resource of unfiltered goodness. But if you're looking for just one sip to check the taste then go straight to the song Kamba Ba Laumba. There's a great tenderness to it; it's a delicate exercise in the power of restraint. I love the way it just gently wafts along, sadly beautiful, emerging from the heat haze like a welcome cooling breeze. There is nothing I can compare it to; it's a whole different balm game. Nunes's guitar playing is notably spellbinding, but it's the quality of his voice that resonates the most. I could listen to him sing forever and never realise the time.

Stop all the clocks and take a break to check this out. It will gladden your heart until your cup filleth over.