From The Chest

There are times when listening to traditional albums, you sense a melting of one into another, with players' identities being lost, or at the very least, diluted in the mix. Kevin O'Connor is in no danger of falling prey to that particular malady, having an ear for arrangements that sparkle and shine in their originality.

From The Chest is O'Connor's debut, an album that's so inventive in style and mood that it should be listed in an apothecary's remedy book for tired and weary souls. Dominated by an inspired coupling of fiddle with harpsicord, mandola and sundry other strings, each tune is literally picked out with the sort of precision engineering that'd do a neurosurgeon proud.

Whether it's the familiar lilting of 'The Faerie King/Leaving Brittas' (the former a welcome reminiscence of Horslips' heyday) or the buxom swirls of 'Reavy's', O'Connor treats every tune with a reverence and attention to detail that's as enviable as it is rare. He sets a pace throughout that allows the formidable band to tiptoe in and out from behind the curtain with effortless ease.

At times From The Chest suggests the classical grandeur of Seamus McGuire's The Wishing Tree, particularly when it strays towards Cape Breton ('The Breton Wedding March') and Spain's Asturius region ('El Gartin'). Here and there, Robbie Harris' djembe, bodhrán and sundry percussion instruments wallow and hush alongside Trevor Hutchinson's trademark low-key double bass.

Breda Mayock guests on vocals for the pristine 'An Raibh Tú Ar An gCarraig?', lending a further vaporous layer to the proceedings.

Kevin O'Connor has produced a fine debut that whispers rather than shouts its breeding to the world. Best played loud, lest you sink too deeply into its gaping arms, From The Chest will surely do much to launch the reputation of Kevin O'Connor in pastures new.

And well may he travel. Another fine colt from the increasingly interesting Malgamú stable.