Album Reviews

The veteran Irish singer Mary Black is probably better known among American audiophiles than among the general music-loving populace because her recordings are exquisite sounding, audiophiles tend to dig chick singers, and for some reason Black has never received major radio airplay.

She's been making solo albums since 1983, after getting her start as part of The Black Family folk group. Her solo outings are more contemporary than folk, though you'll instantly recognize the Irish folk heritage.

Her brilliantly recorded 1989 album No Frontiers (UK Grapevine GRAPELP 005) was probably the audiophile world's intro to the pristine-voiced balladeer. She should be as well known and popular as Enya, but unlike Enya, who latched onto the New Age bandwagon, Black remains difficult to categorize within the Celtic tradition.

Black incorporates folk, pop and traditional music to produce a blend that's less folky and more contemporary than, say, Linda Thompson's recent solo comeback. Black's voice combines a cool clarity with a rich, full timbre, and while she produces a subtle vibrato, there's little in the way of vocal embellishments. Both her physical and emotional delivery on record are pleasingly understated.

On this thematically precise 1987 release that's been brilliantly remastered, one hopes from the original analog master tape, she covers Sandy Denny's “By the Time It Gets Dark,” Richard Thompson's “Farewell,” Ewan McColl's excruciating sad coming of age song “Schooldays Over” and tunes by lesser known songwriters (at least to me), all of whom share an ability to lay out clear melodic and lyrical lines, many filled with melancholy and longing.

This is a thematically concise album that sets a sunset mood immediately with the title track opener and sustains it throughout. It's a record you'll feel strongly each play and long afterward.

The arrangements, admirably clean and open, are built upon producer Declan Sinnott's acoustic guitar, and feature keyboards (piano and some synth), double bass and occasionally congas and other assorted percussion, along with some sax and violins.

The recording and mix deliver immediacy, transparency, clarity and three-dimensionality sorely missing from today's digitized productions. Transients, particularly on Sinnott's acoustic guitar, are fast and clean without being icy and Black's girlish voice is kissed with just enough reverb to put it in a space but not enough to cloud it over or obscure its three-dimensionality.

A late night listening treat that's highly recommended musically and sonically, although Henry Mancini's “Moon River,” the “bonus track” here and on the CD issue probably would have been better left off. The album's original closer, “Trying to Get the Balance Right,” is much more powerful stuff.