The Mercury Prize has always had a pretty mixed reputation. The accolade - awarded to the best record for the best record in the UK and Ireland every given year - is often commended as a sales boost, clearly of great aid to artists that operate outside the mainstream and infinitely more helpful than the relatively paltry cash donation. The downside is that its judges are often hounded for their choices, especially those plucked from obscurity for no purpose other than to satisfy their own egos. However, even the most belligerent elitism can have its benefits. Case in point is King Creosote, a quite magnificent singer-songwriter whose work I may never have discovered had
Diamond Mine, his collaboration with electronic musician Jon Hopkins not been a surprise nomination for last year's gong.
