In the ongoing debate about retention or invention in Irish music, Lunasa sit perfectly positioned, one eye on the future but with a solid traditional base from which to build in the form of fiddler Sean Smyth, piper Cillian Vallely, and flautist Kevin Crawford.

On this, their third album, the alchemy is much as before, aided and abetted by the subtle playing of guest musicians of the calibre of Ed Deane, Kieran Wilde, and Frames man David Odlum.

What makes Lunasa and their music work so well is that there is no jockeying for position within the group. Lead and rhythm instruments are an equal part of the wonderfull texture which has evolved since they began to beguile us several years ago, so whether it is Cillian's opening up the title track with a vengeance or the sonic attack of Donogh's guitar on Aoibhneas, there is a very natural organic feel to the proceedings. Nor is their penchant for originality confined to arrangements, Hennessy's ‘Inion NI Scannlain’ being one of the finest new tunes I have heard in quite some time.

The best tribute I can pay to Lunasa and this magnificient record, is that every time I play it – and I do play it every day – it reveals something fresh and new.

At years end, it will be as it is now, right up there with the best of them.