I don't really want to rehash the long history of my frustration with The Corrs again. Suffice to say, they're an Irish pop group that's become way more pop than Irish after they thrilled me with a synthesis of the two on their debut album, Forgiven, Not Forgotten. Despite that, I slowly learned to appreciate the group again on their fourth album, the heavily programmed but reasonably likeable Borrowed Heaven. I kind of figured that the pop charts were where they were most content, and that no band should attempt to redo their debut record anyway, so I figured all I'd get out of them in the future was a few more halfway decent albums, and an enjoyable single here and there.

So it was a surprise when, in late 2005, they announced the overseas release of their fifth album, Home (which appeared here in the States in February 2006). This was going to be an obvious "return to roots" if ever there was one, with the group returning to more of a traditional Irish folk feel, polishing off some of those old instruments that hadn't been given much airtime on their pop-oriented records, and taking favorite tunes out of their late mother's songbook as inspiration. No way they could screw this one up, I figured. So I was definitely looking forward to it.

And Home definitely lives up to expectations in terms of being a record that sounds very Irish. The Corrs have always been about romantic love, so it's no surprise that most of the songs they picked are melancholy stories of handsome young men traveling endless miles to be reunited with fair maidens, and those fair maidens swooning over their lost loves. Somehow it all seems less silly and shallow when you know that these songs have been around for decades or even centuries. And it gives some of The Corrs' flightier moments context - the execution may not always work, but the intent has perhaps been to do with modern pop music what these traditional Irish songs were trying to do with the musical form known best in that time and society. OK, so it still won't redeem the putrid mess that was In Blue, but at least I better understand where they're coming from now.

There are modern touches to Home as well - a string arrangement here, some light keyboard ambience there, and an overall glossy feel despite the more earthy instrumentation. Guitarist Jim Corr wisely sticks to the old acoustic for most of these tracks, with only one song standing out from the pack as being an upbeat, pop single sort of song that would call for an electric guitar. Jim's three sisters, whose vocal blend normally provides the honey-sweet hook for many of their songs, are actually a lot more subdued here, with Caroline Corr's various percussion instruments (bodhran included) taking a gentler approach, and Sharon Corr's violin only showing up here and there. Lead singer Andrea Corr kind of floats in the ether all by herself for most of these songs, which is the unusual thing - there just isn't the wall of otherworldly sound married to strong pop sensibility that made Forgiven, Not Forgotten such an engrossing piece of work. But she still sounds lovely, as does the entire band, and this more intimate side of them is actually encouraging, even if it means the album doesn't really pick up its pace until the second half (and even then, only here and there). Each member of the group is in fine form, even if it's rare that they're all doing something significant at the same time.

Home is a record that you'll want to put on when you're home alone at night taking a warm bath, or reading a juicy romance novel, or preparing a candlelight dinner while the lass/lad of your choice patiently awaits the results. It's more about mood than raw instrumental skill or musical diversity, but it's definitely an excellent flavor to add to your musical collection.

My Lagan Love
Her welcome like her love for me
Is from her heart within
Her warm kiss is felicity
That knows no taint of sin...
It's kind of weird to hear Andrea Corr singing a love song to a girl, but I think the idea behind most of this album is that they left traditional lyrics unchanged, and just fiddled with the arrangements. So you can imagine it's from the point of view of a young Irish lad - singing a song that isn't necessarily from the point of view of your own gender isn't a totally foreign concept to folk music anyway. This opening love song maintains a balance between subtlety and grandeur - Caroline's light but somehow militant rolling drums and delicate piano playing set the stage, allowing the song to roll along like a slow ride in a horse-drawn carriage - and suddenly that dusty horse trail comes out at a sweeping vista of an Irish valley, as Sharon's violin, backed by a lush string arrangement, comes in to take your breath away. Lots of outdated English jargon in this one, but hey - at least it's in English. (We'll get to the foreign language stuff later.)

Spancil Hill
I went to see my neighbors to hear what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone the young ones turning grey...
A gently rolling 3/4 rhythm takes us deeper into the Irish countryside, to tell this story of a boy who has returned home after a long absence (if only in a dream), to find that things have changed in the little hamlet where he grew up. He's come seeking - you guessed it - a long lost love. Jim's acoustic guitar is very rich here, and I actually wish that the band relied more on that and Sharon's violin than the string arrangement, which isn't as captivating here. Still, the song has a delicate touch that works well, and there's a nice little surprise ending where the band breaks into a playful little jig, like some of those interludes on Forgiven, Not Forgotten, but more fully realized. The string arrangement eventually consumes that as well, but I think it's an interesting coda to a beautiful song.

Peggy Gordon
I wish I was in some lonesome valley
Where womankind cannot be found
Where little birds sing upon the branches
And every moment has a different sound...
The delicious duet of acoustic guitar and tin whistle that opens this song is enough to make my heart melt. From here in, the songs start to get a little more forlorn and less upbeat, still evoking the green hills and cloudy skies of a typical Irish day, but coming up a little more desperate in the emotional department. This song is essentially a suitor's attempt to make his case to a fair maiden who has already rejected him. It's so pathetic, but when channeled through Andrea's silky voice, it's hard not to feel sorry for the lad. His resolution seems to be that he'd rather be with her, or all alone with a glass of brandy in a land where women did not exist at all. How joyful!

Black Is the Colour
I go to the Clyde and I mourn and weep
For satisfied I never sleep
I write him letters, just a few short lines
And I suffer death ten thousand times...
Now it's time to hear from a dejected woman's perspective. You can probably tell from the title that this isn't the most cheerful song - indeed, the music even seems dirge-like at first, an Andrea's tone is a little lower and less colorful here. Strains of electric guitar can be heard, more to add that "black" color than to give the song any sort of a "rock" feel. It's a texture that grows on you after a few listens. There's a whistle interlude between the verses that actually picks things up quite a bit, soaring over the landscape to give us some reprieve from the swooning and ground-worshipping and so forth going on as she pines away over the guy. Yeah, you can tell I'm in it more for the lyrics than the music at this point, though if we have to deal with sad sack teenage love songs, at least these sound a lot more poetic than many of The Corrs' original writings on the subject.

Heart Like a Wheel
They say that death is a tragedy
It comes once and then it's over
But my one only wish is for that deep dark abyss
For what's the use of living with no true lover...
This might be the point where we need a break from the ballads. Hang on; we'll get said break in a few minutes. For now, we've got another gentle ballad that compares the fragile emotions of humankind to a wagon wheel, which is not easily repaired once broken. This song, while pretty, would probably work better if not positioned immediately after another downer, because the lyrics here are near-suicidal (the rationale being that death is a one-time thing, and being lonely goes on and on and continues to hurt). I guess only the Irish can get away with being so fatalistic and yet so ravishingly pretty all at once in terms of how they compose songs.

Buachhaill On Eirne
This is the first of two tracks sung entirely in Gaelic, and like many songs performed in foreign languages, it's quite pretty until you learn what it's about. According to a translation I looked up, all of this beautiful old-world enunciation is basically the proclamation of a young man that he's rich and can have any maiden he chooses, so he can marry a poor farm girl if he wants because he doesn't need to worry about how much she's worth. Something like that which is meant to be charming, but maybe something was lost in the translation, because it comes off as a bit self-congratulatory. Yeah, just pretend you don't know what it means and enjoy the lilting vocals, swaying rhythm, stately piano, and the gentle strings and whistles that seep in like the sun peeking through the morning fog. It's better that way.

Old Hag
It's jig time again! This time we get a full instrumental track, which sounds very old-world with Caroline's bodhran keeping time as the violin, a few whistles, and possible even accordion lock arms and dance around the room and switch partners and all that. Livelier drums join in later as the tune's layers begin to build, with the percussion even getting a modest solo midway through. And is that Uilleann pipes I hear? Dude. Sweet.

Moorlough Shore
Where the primrose glows and the violet grows
Where the trout and salmon play
With my line and hook delight I took
To spend my youthful days...
Hey, they recorded a song named for the place that I named myself after! Um, let me explain that. One of my favorite bands, Iona, has this lovely song called "Murlough Bay", and I loved it so much that I started using "Murlough" (an alternate spelling of the "Moorlough" mentioned here) as on online nickname, despite never having been to this (or any) Irish locale. The Corrs have also recorded a traditional song about the place (which I understand has also been recorded by Sinead O'Connor). While this isn't one of the more interesting tracks for me, musically speaking, the lyrics tell an interesting story of a guy (I think) who is trying to woo a girl, but she's pining for a soldier who has apparently sailed off to "the sea of Maine" (which I'm guessing means something other than an American state on the Eastern seaboard, but you never know). The guy basically decides to move in on her, telling her that her lover might be running around with someone else, and she basically responds that she'll wait around seven years for him anyway, so dude, you're out of luck. While the verses and rhythm are a bit pain, there are lovely musical interludes once again that make good use of the whistles and violin, even if that approach is becoming slightly formulaic by now.

Old Town
She plays it hard, she plays it tough, but that's enough
The love is over
She's broke his heart and that is rough
But in the end you'll soon recover
The romance is over...
Now this one's just out of left field. The upbeat, pop/rock-oriented rhythm tips me off that this is likely not a traditional Irish song, as does the lively chorus which states "This boy is cracking up, this boy is broke down". It's not as programmed and processed as a lot of The Corrs' usual radio singles, but still, it's likely the most radio-ready of the tracks presented here. A girl's being chastised for giving a boy a hard time and basically driving him looney, and then the upbeat rhythm takes a brief hiatus for a slow, lonely, piano-backed trip through the "old town", where the girl realizes how little fun she's having without him. Something like that. There are horns and stuff in the background, as well as electric guitar and a jaunty rhythm provided by the piano, and on another CD, this would be a totally fun song, but here... I don't know, it doesn't seem to fit, as nice as it may be to have an actual "fast song" on the album.

Dimming of the Day
You pull me like the moon pulls on the tide
You know just where I keep my better side...
I could almost mistake this sensitive ballad for a Dixie Chicks song. I think one of the other girls - either Sharon or Caroline - is singing lead here, and it's due to the way that more than one of them can be heard at the same time during the chorus that makes me think of the Dixies. The group sounds less Irish and more straight-ahead folk here, because the acoustic guitar and quiet strings are the only instruments present. The song is a fairly basic confession of a woman who needs a man to be there during a long night - simple stuff, but passionately and believably sung.

Brid Og Ni Mhaille
Andrea begins the album's second Gaelic tune entirely a capella, before an acoustic guitar sprinkles in a little bit of melody, and then the strings get overlaid on top of that, and soon enough the entire band is in play. Looking past the awkward moments where this song's rhythm appears to trip on itself, this is another lovely performance (I keep using that word, but it fits, because I'd stop just short of calling most of the album "gorgeous", even though it tends toward that description at times.) It's another one of those "lad meets maiden, lad loses maiden, lad hates himself and wants to die" type lyrics if you bother to look at the translation - this time the girl goes off and gets married, so we know the guy's pretty much screwed. How classically sad for him. There's another pretty violin solo here, and as much as I love those, part of me wonders why Sharon only gets those little solo spots and isn't really able to act as a lead instrument during any of the vocal songs. (I guess I shouldn't complain, since we hear more of her here than on most of the band's albums.)

Haste to the Wedding
Hooray - after all of the tales of love lost, it's time to go see someone get hitched! Bring your finest dancing shoes and go get jiggy with it! (Sorry.) This closing instrumental tune is even livelier than "Old Hag", with its victorious, high-pithced melody skirting across the top of the rocky percussion that sits underneath it. In that sense, it combines the traditional jig with one of The Corrs' more modern instrumentals such as "Toss the Feathers", and it would likely make an even better concert closer than an album closer. And oh yeah, this time I know for sure I'm hearing an accordion.

Here's what I want from the next Corrs album. Reinstate your pop/rock sensibilities. Those aren't inherently bad things. Experiment with different styles and formats if you like. Just don't lose the traditional element that you show here, the thing that makes you stand out among tons of pretty-sounding girlie pop acts. Take what you learned from this album and your debut, and expand on that rather than shying away from it in favor of trying to fit in on American soil. America will probably still like you just fine if you're true to yourselves and where you came from.

And that's all, lads and lassies. See you in the funny pages.

ALBUM WORTH:
My Lagan Love $1.50
Spancil Hill $1.50
Peggy Gordon $1
Black is the Colour $1
Heart Like a Wheel $1
Buachhaill On Eirne $1
Old Hag $1
Moorlough Shore $1
Old Town $1
Dimming of the Day $1
Brid Og Ni Mhaille $1
Haste to the Wedding $1.50
TOTAL: $13.50

Band Members:
Andrea Corr: Lead vocals, tin whistle
Sharon Corr: Violin, backing vocals
Caroline Corr: Drums, percussion, bodhran, piano, tambourine, backing vocals
Jim Corr: Guitar, keyboards, piano

Website: http://www.thecorrswebsite.com

Recommended: Yes

Great Music to Play While: Romancing