If you've been following LISA GERRARD'S career as Dead Can Dance (with Brendan Perry) through the 1980s and 1990s, you'll know that she's long since jettisoned anything that can be categorised as "pop" and has been making incredible records such as "In The Realm Of A Dying Sun" and 1990's still out-there "Aion", which draw as much upon the ancient, mediaeval world as anything that passes for the cutting edge in the 21st Century.
So, while she's no longer in tandem with Brendan Perry, "Immortal Memory" - made with new collaborator Patrick Cassidy who Gerrard met in LA while working on the "Gladiator" OST - is still very much an extension of DCD'S later work, with swirling strings to the fore and Gerrard singing in commerce-friendly languages such as Gaelic and Aramaic.
By now, you'll probably have gathered that "Immortal Memory" ain't exactly a shiny pop record, then, but such trifles are immaterial to Gerrard and Cassidy and, if you're open-minded enough to take the typically gorgeously-packaged "Immortal Memory" for what it is - an ambitious, slightly pretentious, but often beautiful album with neo-classical leanings - then there's plenty of wonders to behold here.
It's stirring, dramatic stuff. Opener "The Song Of Amergin" sets the tone with widesecreen screes of strings recalling composers such as Philip Glass, while "Marantha (Come Lord)" slips into full-on Gregorian chant mode and the rousing "Sailing to Byzantium" quotes from WB Yeats and employs bodhrans and crashing timpani to fine, evocative effect.
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Elsewhere, orchestral delights such as "Amergin's Invocation" hold sway superbly, while the hymnal qualities of both "Immortal Memory" and "Paradise Lost" are graceful, dignified and moving in the extreme. They leave arguably the best in reserve for last, though, with the lengthy, but warm, organ-led piece de resistance "Psallit In Aure Dei", where they bring everything full circle and the spirit sings truly beautifully.
OK, it's easy to dismiss "Immortal Memory" as a difficult, impenetrable, highbrow exercise and certainly in a few places (such as "Abwoon (Our Father)", which veers dangerously close to Enya territory) they do little to persuade you otherwise. However, listen carefully and allow Gerrard and Cassidy to weave their spells and you'll realise what a brave, uncompromising and downright distinctive record this really is. Ploughing your own furrow has rarely sounded so thrilling.
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