The Turning Tide
Artist: Solas
Label: Compass
Time: 12 tracks / 46 mins

It's criminal that a collection with such an array of moods and sparkling arrangements should be dressed in drab greys, so just forget the cover shown here and think of verdant Irish pastures, or any vibrant, flowing image speckled with crisp pointillism.

If you've done that, let's get back to the music: Solas has been a major Irish-American band now for some years and this is their second with Mairead Phelan on lead vocals. It's evenly split between instrumentals and songs (by talents like Karine Polwart and Richard Thompson) that are ideally suited to her breathy, enigmatic vocal style.  

Josh Ritter's "Girl in the War" is a great example. Drenched in spiritual references, it's the cry of a man who's desperate above anything else in life for his girl to survive a war she's caught in. Phelan's voice also catches the hurt of the victim, or someone close, in Polwart's "Sorry," which sounds like a pointed attack on paedophile priests, but is actually a more generic strike at those who wreak havoc and then claim forgiveness from God without redressing the harm done.

The set is brilliantly assembled, as it's all about a mix and at every level they get the mixes right, whether between instrumentals and songs; lively and quiet; Irish and American (and English, when you hear the rustic Fairport Convention-influenced harmonies on "A Sailor's Song), and the sound mix itself.

The instrumentals are also pitched brilliantly. Starting the disc, "Hugo's Big Reel" is just that, a typically bouncy reel that gets the legs moving; while the set closes (as many should in my opinion) with a quiet guitar piece that gently winds the listener down from the disc to the rest of life that lays waiting outside. In the middle, the completely different "Waltz for Mairead" is danceable, hummable and lifted by both Winifred Horan's Balkan fiddling and Seamus Egan's sparkling mandolin. "Grady Fernando Comes to Town" gallops from the beginning, when two guitars pick the frenetic riff. This disc generally sails fast without many drums, but they cut in here and push the propulsion. Over this, the fiddle, banjo and guitar each run wild, but absolutely together, like a bunch of well-matched racehorses. The reels are direct and lively, with none of the anonymity that many end up with when they come from the studio.

The instruments paint emotions over the songs. Springsteen's "Ghost of Tom Joad," a Grapes of Wrath-referencing social commentary song, is already packed with visceral attitude, but added to Phelan's just-right delivery, descending fiddle lines add a wary edge to the end of the track, while the mandolin lifts the sound yet again.

Their last disc was strong, but I respected it with my head more than my heart. This one goes straight to both. It is overflowing with great tunes, whether the songs have words or not, and has a mood for every track. Throughout it all, the sound is so bright that it begs to be played over and over. This is the best roots CD I have heard for many months.

Derek Walker