The Poison Glen (Gleann Nimhe)

This venerable band from Donegal presents its newest recording. Shifting somewhat away from its Narada-label leanings of a decade back into New Age-inflected stylings, this Compass Records release offers a more traditional delivery of tunes, reliable in their familiar conjuring of their Northwestern Irish heritage. At its best, this recalls their standout albums originally released in America on the Green Linnet label.

This is also the first of their many albums since they began around thirty years ago to feature an Irish-language title. It's taken from a place near vocalist-fiddler Mairéad Ní Mhaonaigh's home. She explains it as a mistranslation of "heavenly" glen, in fact, but that so many legends have sprung up to account for its more devilish connotation that it's been kept in its darker emanation. The band is photographed by Edain O'Donnell, or Photoshopped, among the technicolor of that glen, in a nod to the imagination which improves upon nature. This sly nod to enchantment and misdirection in the singer's native tongue represents a clever turn for this ensemble back to the roots music it plays best.

As the first studio album in seven years (I reviewed their collaboration with the RTÉ orchestra celebrating the band's twenty-fifth anniversary two years ago), this features skilled players. Ciaran Tourish supports on fiddle and whistle, Dermot Byrne on accordion, Mark Kelly on guitar and bouzouki, Ciarán Curran on bouzouki and mandolin, and Dáithí Sproule on guitar and vocals. Jim Higgins guests with percussion that shakes up the rhythm now and then, as on the ballad "The Lily of the West". The line-up may obscure the fact that Donegal's known for fiddlers. Tourish and Ní Mhaonaigh compliment each other with the sprightly, fluid sound of their home turf. Stringed instruments back up the fiddling with propulsive energy and shifting melodies that emerge handsomely in this production.

Reels and jigs alternate, as on all their albums and performances, with songs. Ní Mhaonaigh's confident, yet gentle voice commands attention. "An Ghealóg" laments the death of a bunting on a winter's night; I believe (given all I have is a downloaded file) that Harry Bradley's flute is featured here to deepen the sad mood. The massed backing vocals hint back to fellow Donegal natives Clannad and Enya's approach, but these touches enter sensitively and sparingly.

The next song "Caitlín Triall" narrates an all-too-often tale of unrequited love; while again the vocal arrangement recalls their top-charting Donegal neighbors, Altan prefers to base its material upon simpler studio settings. Instrumental tracks do this efficiently, as on "Eddie Curran's Monaghan Twig" or "The Lancer's Jig" imitating their concert medleys which allow the band to show off its balance of lushness with drive.

The last five tracks, whether instrumentals or songs, slow down the pace markedly. The concentration of a more burnished, less frenetic set into the final third of the album may indicate the band's wish to return to the composed, dignified feel of its Narada-label recordings, but I prefer the entries which move the band into overdrive in playing, as well as those vocal opportunities allowing Ní Mhaonaigh to display her sensitive lyrical delivery within the deftly arranged tunes that show off Altan at its finest as Ireland's leading interpreters of its musical tradition.

Altan recordings are few in my collection, and I have seen them in person, but I prefer Lúnasa's chamber instrumentals largely for their inclusion of Uileann pipes. Thus, I approached this new Altan album expecting it to be merely satisfactory. I was wrong. It is a lovely, bright, richly harmonious album, comfortable as old shoes worn for dancing, which is what I want to do listening to a couple early reels. The songs are often beautiful, if somewhat sad. Track 10 is a special studio arrangement of fiddles and guitars that transforms a reel into a slow march. The sound engineering over the several studios is excellent, and instruments and the vocals of Mairéad Ní Mhaonaigh are crystal clear. The band seems nearby in a small room. This is a solid, very pleasant album, evenly divided among dances and ballads. The calm tone is as if having had a full meal we now relax by an evening fire.

Admittedly, I'm not well versed in Irish music, but I got this album about 6 weeks ago as a gift, and I love it!!!
What I like most about the record is the blend of instrumental tracks with lyrical songs as well. Sometimes albums in this genre are totally instrumentals and they bore me, but The Poison Glen keeps me interested through the full length of the record. The blend of languages is great, too. It preserves the exotic qualities of the artist and the record while also offering English lyrics that engage the American listener.

Since I received this album, I've checked out some other records by Altan, and I've come to really enjoy their style. The band uses typical instruments for the genre, but adds some instruments commonly found in other genres like americana and country. The result is a musical style with true Irish roots and heritage that incorporates things I already know and love.

This record is getting a lot of plays on my iPod, and Altan is becoming one of my favorite artists!