JOHN RENBOURN

Boyle could not only sing angelically and with more warmth than MCSHEE, but she adds flutes and whistles complementing those of the ever present TONY ROBERTS, while Tilston himself sings and strums and plucks a cornucopia of instruments. The result is the best such collaboration in Renbourn's long career at this unlikely late date of 1988. While it can't match his best instrumental projects, songs like the STEELEYE like "Searching for Lambs", the enchanting "Sandwood down to Kyle", and the MORRIGAN-like title cut lend credibility to the hypothesis that the newcomers injected needed vivacity into a formula that had thus far been only a titch to the good side of competent. Even the one vocal-less number "Cobbler's Jig / Maltese Brawls", with a title that screams filler, is one of the high points for its flourishing arrangements.

It's a shame that this was not only a one off but proved to be Renbourn's last disc for a decade. While it hits the 3.5 star level on the nose, I'd be a fool not to round up if only to acknowledge its preeminence relative to the 1977 and 1980 top heavy John Renbourn Group issues.

When he solos, as in the middle section of the title suite, he is hard to confuse with any other, and some of the best moments here are vintage Renbourn, even though my favorite number is the flawless "Variations on my Lady Carey's Dompe", in which Toby Pedley's recorder is at least as prominent. The Northumbrian pipes and fiddles fortify the ensemble piece "Circle Dance". On par with "The Black Balloon" with which it shares honours as the best releases of his peak period, "The NIne Maidens" is an aural vision of immaculate beauty.

Suitable mostly for guitarists and the more committed fans who don't mind reinterpretations of earlier PENTANGLE or Renbourn work, which was always a downside to the fruit of this family tree, enough accomplished first timers in the form of the more Scottish than a Scotsman's "Lindsay", the quaint "To Glastonbury", and the Americana of "the Young Man can't Hoe Corn" all help save this from an early dismissal or, I might add, a lone airing.

This second and thankfully final JOHN RENBOURN group studio album unwittingly establishes his unencumbered solo work as the state of the art from the family tree circa 1980. To be clear, there's nothing specifically wrong here other than my personal preference for vivacity and a modicum of emotion in this early music style, but there isn't anything terribly right about it either. If pressed, I will backpedal and admit that the tabla of Keshav Sathe helps upgrade "Le Tambourin", "Douce Dame Jolie", and the almost fascinating raga closer "Sidi Brahim" to the higher floors if not the rooftop deck, allowing this review to escape complete disenchantment and maybe even the ire of the Renbourn faithful.

This was around the time that the Brit folk rock influence was waning, but also when GORDON GILTRAP hit the UK top 20 with "Heartsong", one of the more unlikely hits of that decade, so there was some latitude for projects of this ilk. Not that Renbourn cared a whit about external validation, yet somehow he seems extra happy to be communicating in a more universally coherent language than on "The Hermit", which makes "The Black Balloon" a classic instrumental work and the best of his solo, duo and group efforts to that point.

While the ensemble plays with more spirit than we are accustomed to from anybody in the extended family tree, and even capture that gratifyingly claustrophobic mood of MALICORNE's "Almanach" in the potent title cut, I weary at the selection and reselection of the same material such as "Black waterside", "John Barleycorn", "Reynardine" (super version though) and "My Johnny was a Shoemaker". However, Tony Roberts' woodwinds and the appealingly layered harmonies do enhance the as always preciously crystalline arrangements, and the a cappella gospel of "Talk about Suffering" is a triumphant closer.

No bedlam here, just a well produced and performed album that lacks that certain intangible but should no doubt appeal to fans of the style.

"The Hermit" boasts only eminences from one or two acoustic guitars, Renbourn's and an invited guest. The playing is crisp, with some variety as in the presence of several O'Carolan tunes obviously written for harp and a good old fashioned ragtime number, but for all that, none sound more distinguishable from the other than exquisitely cubed tofu. I suppose Renbourn needed to get the PENTANGLE breakup of 1972 off his chest and chose this format, yet the ghosts of PENTANGLE have infiltrated every antiseptic groove.

This must surely be the only LP in history that remains hermetically sealed even when cracked open, and, since I cannot recommend any individual tracks (ok, if push comes to shove, "Caroline's Tune") and find no meaningful cohesion here, I can't round up. 2.5 stars.

Renbourn is back to singing and acquits himself respectfully on mostly traditional blues/country songs from America, as he has done earlier and giftedly, with the inobtrusive backing of DORRIS HENDERSION on a few songs. The best material here is of the slow burn type demonstrated in the opening two tracks, one about the assassination of President McKInley in 1901 and the other about buffalo hunting in the pre-statehood southwest; and the wonderful and idiosyncratically homoerotic "Willy O'Winsbury", in which the king claims he would have slept with Willy if the king were a woman. My first reaction is that I would hope Willy would have a say in this matter, but coming from the king and all, I suppose Willy might have been wise to capitulate. It's also notable for being essentially the only overtly Englische tune here.

A few other tracks are elevated by Renbourn's skill on both electric ("Kokomo Blues") and acoustic guitar ("The Cuckoo"), converting the otherwise nearly forgettable to the virtually excellent. As a fan of the long lived "The Men they Couldn't Hang", pitch perfect Brits who wore a genuine fascination with Americana, I note the similarities between the meter and melody of "Little Sadie" and TMTCH's "Silver Gun".

"Faro Annie" sees Renbourn and his select accompanists delivering again, and even better, in a style that would seem on the surface to be a poor fit, but proudly and humbly brims with authenticity. Not quite 3.5 stars.

Finally Renbourn goes full olde world so this is much more integrated than the oddly structured "Sir John alot of.." The album consists of a set of short dances that are paired up with a compatible partner as befits a good instructor. All of these are at least pretty, with the opener's "Saltarello" (always a failproof choice), the sitar and glockenspiel driven "Lamento di Tristan/Las Rotta", and the courtly "Bransle De Bourgogne" emerging especially triumphant. If Gryphon had just not sung on their debut, and remembered to take off their corsets, it might have been half this good. I'd be negligent if I didn't also give props to the closing medley that is primarily a version of "Scarborough Fare" for those who wish the monster S&G hit from a few years prior had been longer and more instrumental.

I don't necessarily expect the contents of an album to all be of a certain style, but in this case Renbourn has combined not dissimilar tunes synergistically which elevates all above the sum of their parts, and encourages a gentlemanly upgrade to 4 stars.

Renbourn has bestowed the same 20 miles over the speed limit mentality in his accompanists. I'll admit that African drums, flutes, and acoustic guitars would still represent a novel concept today, but 2 drum solos on a studio album?? It's not that they sound any better on a live album, but at least we expect them in that setting. "Sweet Potato" avoids this preening and instead struts with self awareness, so it's my pick from the last 15 minutes. Still, the best here is undoubtedly the suite "Morgana" which might have made MIKE OLDFIELD a follower, accounting for his own folky forays that ebbed and flowed from "Tubular Bells" onward. Not a lot of, or even enough of, anything to warrant better than 3 stars I'm afraid.