Tony Mac Mahon has never been behind the door in pronouncing the way forward in traditional music. There's a fire in his belly whose flames rarely need fanning, so passionate and fervent is his belief in the one true way.

This is a collection to test the mettle of any fan of traditional music. Mac Mahon's talent as a box player is everywhere evident, from the opener, 'An Buachaillín Bán', to his fittingly militant take on 'The Battle Of Aughrim' march. His ability to burrow to the heart of a tune is peerless, particularly when he tackles the more high-profile set pieces like 'Toss The Feathers' and 'Port Na bPucaí', boldly offering a double take on the former, and a caoining lament of the second.

But at the heart of The Man From Clare lies an insistence on pedagogy, on hectoring his listeners into abject submission. Listening to 'Caoineadh Eoghain Rua' and 'Amhrán Na Leabhar', their funereal pace hints at an insistence on pedantry rather than of a heartfelt desire to communicate grief or bereavement.

Elsewhere the mood is similarly dour, with only occasional shafts of light provided by Barney McKenna's light-footed banjo and the reckless abandon of Liam O Maonlaoí and John Sheahan on 'The Haughs Of Cromdale'.

At the heart of The Man From Clare is a teacher willing his errant students to sit up and take note. It's a collection that'll doubtless find its way onto the laser decks of trad fans who like their music neither shaken nor stirred. Anyone with a palate for more diverse flavours will have to look elsewhere.