Uprooted

This Cape Breton quintet have been on the road almost a decade now, and Uprooted finds them asserting their independence and hankering after the traditional Nova Scotian sound at one and the same time. You'd expect that such contradictory impressions might grate and jar, but Jimmy, Cookie, Raylene, Heather and John Rankin shuffle the deck with the ease of musicians who know how to keep both feet on the ground while exploring alternative styles and sounds.

Last time round, they tried the full frontal approach that had proven to be a winning formula for Mary Chapin Carpenter, but this time the Rankins have pulled back, just a tad, mind, from the front line. With vocals like Heather's and Cookie's, and a crystalline feel for words like Jimmy's, they seem to have recognised that they don't have to force what's already there.

With 9 of the 14 tracks burrowing their way into the light of day from the Rankin's own peann luaidhes, Uprooted is a mirror that's more reflective of their own time and place than of the past. Then again, the latter half of the album floats into a netherworld of traditional love songs, laments and aislings that conjure images of tartan kilts and misty-eyed memories.

Self-parody is one of Jimmy Rankin's strong points as a songwriter, as evidenced by the irony-laden 'Long Way To Go', with its razor-sharp observations on the flakier side of fame. Framed by Heather's ballsy vocals and Jimmy's driving lead guitar, this is AOR alright, but with an IQ.

Elsewhere the mood is more pensive, with arrangements more orchestral. 'Cold Winds' is a mighty fine ballad, and Heather's delivery is a model of how to evoke emotion without the saccharine overkill which has become a prerequisite for most female vocalists these days (Céline, Mariah and Whitney take note).

At times the marriage of traditional and new material is less than harmonious. 'Weddings, Wakes and Funerals' starts out like a fine cautionary tale, with the devil intent on holding the floor, but before long it sinks into a morass of techno-trad (complete with a sampled drum loop from none other than Jim Corr!), and from there it's but a hop, skip and a jump to schizoid electric fiddles and pianos.

The trad tunes that stick closer to their roots are far more successful. 'O Tha Mo Dhuil Buit' and 'An Innis Aigh' float on the back of beautiful gaelic vocals, and hold their own amid the arrangements far more successfully.

The one and only cover is well chosen: Bruce Cockburn's 'One Day I Walk' shimmers amid the glorious vocals of Cookie Rankin, and although occasionally the percussion lopes just a tad too much, it's still a sensitive reading, and one suspects, is an ideal candidate for daytime radio airplay.

Uprooted's an album for the explorer, for the music lover who's tolerant of a band brave enough to keep pushing the envelope in search of the unexpected. And the