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.