The albums of doe-eyed Irish minstrel Fionn Regan have a habit of being lovingly caressed by critics and then being bought by more or less no one. Armed with an acoustic guitar, nimble fingers and just 25 minutes’ worth of songs, Regan has crafted a set of ten luminous, sun-dappled miniatures here. His writing only seems to improve: “Anchor Black Tattoo” itself recalls Sixties Cat Stevens in its prettiness and warmth, while “67 Blackout” is a pithy, poetic short story Richard Thompson would be happy to fire off.