Listening to the new self-titled album from Espanola is a bit like pulling on a pair of boots that you’ve worn every day for the last twenty years.  This is music so comforting and worn-in; so natural and loose that, despite being released in 2019, stirs feelings of nostalgia and warmth normally reserved for those precious pieces of vinyl you’ve owned forever.  As I listen I am forced to ask myself: “is this really happening?” and, as the vintage classics pour forth, I occasionally slap myself to check it isn’t a dream.  It transpires I am fully awake and that this could be the realest thing I’ve heard in decades.