Farmhouse

With their album catalogue now into double-figures, the Vermont-raised Phish (not to be confused with that big bloke from Marillion) have yet to stamp their indelible mark on Irish earlobes, but with Farmhouse they've taken a fair stride towards legendhood.

Whereas some of their earlier efforts lapsed into Grateful Dead-style meanderings, this is essentially a chunky country-folk with rural rock-to-go album on which the title track has all the elegant grandeur of 'The Weight' and at times could be mistaken for Elvis Costello guesting with The Band. And it gets even better from there on in.

'Twist' adds a hint of Santana in the percussion department while 'Bug' is as hypnotically tender as, say, REM ever get. 'Heavy Things' chugs along with style and elan fuelled by some fine country-rock guitar and rattling good drums before 'Back On The Train' enters with all the sly innocence of Eddie Cochran-era rock'n'roll.

Phish can do soft and subtle too, as on the enchantingly jangly 'Dirt', 'Sleep' and especially the lengthy opening to 'Piper' with its mid-career Edge-lite guitar that prefaces a noisy six-string frenzy. Towards the end the urgency tends to fade, and 'Sand' and 'First Tube' bring little extra to the party.

In the past Phish've understandably been castigated as 20th century hippie musos, but with Farmhouse they yield value-for-money. This is old fashioned stadium rock writ small and definitely worthy of more attention in this country than they've been afforded thus far.