With All Is Dream Mercury Rev build on the ‘Deserters Songs’ vision to create a spectral opus that was utterly unique in the repackaged pop culture of 2001. Mercury Rev are a band with an acute sense of purpose as well as a sparkle in their collective eyes. These dynamic characteristics see them consistently outdoing their own high standards. Drenched in orchestral manoeuvres ‘All Is Dream’ leaves the base camp hauls itself up to the summit and then pears majestically down on the world. While 'Deserter Songs' may have a more cohesive feel to it, 'All Is Dream' has the better tunes. 'Little Rhymes' is one of them. Starting out with a surreal edge it quickly gathers pace to become a truly uplifting experience. There is a unique ambiance that is hard to quantify but the assorted sounds simply lather Jonathon's voice. The guitar playing has a spaghetti western ring and the eerie backdrop adds to the unforgettable mystique.

'The Dark Is Rising' boasts Powerful orchestration, ambitious lyrics and a female soprano near fade out gel to create the greatest love song written so far this century. It's hard not be moved, this is a song that will be cherished for centuries to come. 'Nite And Fog' could be 'Delta Neck Stomp?' more restrained brother. With a punishing beat that draws the best from a gallery of instruments, Jonathon Donahue masterfully rides the crest in that unique unassuming way of his. After this joyous high the comedown is even better. 'A Drop In Time' is probably Mercury Rev's most accessible song ever. It exudes their innate ability to recreate a seasonal spirit. The violas are plucked with wondrous glee, a gallery of angels loom in the distance and a sweet harvest of strings round off the jamboree. You won't always be assured of snowfalls when it's played and in any case 'A Drop In Time' has such a warm glow it would probably melt on impact.

'You're My Queen' is rather more basic but still wondrous. You can hear a tiny Bowie influence ('Heroes') as it skirts by in super quick time. The chugging chords provide the impetus for Donahue's words that are delivered in an uncharacteristic energised way. The whole effect recalls earlier directions and diminishes any risk of orchestral overload. Jonathan Donahue's vocals have become more shrill with age. You can see how people are put off by them but it's hard to deny their wholesome gravitas. Only once do they really become taxing, on the slightly pathetic 'Lincoln's Eyes' that has its roots in forgettable daytime nursery rhymes a la 'Whose Afraid Of The Drunken Sailor'. 'Tides Of The Moon' has a great deal more purpose and a searing intensity that is hard to resist.

It's business as usual on 'Spiders And Flies'. The lazy piano is omnipresent as well as some mellotron flute intermissions. The singing sounds a little wasted and perhaps the whole effect is a little shallow. The same accusation can't be directed at ‘Hercules’, which has all the hallmarks of greatness lurking in its loins. Spanning over 8 minutes it's all you could wish for to close the album. As it whisks about acoustically the beaming Hammond suggests there is more adventures lying dormant in reserve. The lyrics have an old world ring and are suitably expressive. As the scratchy guitars blow the top off the gentle atmosphere Mercury Rev begin the long descent back home. The victory march is spectacular and awe inspiring. As it draws its last breath you realise that fantasy is now not only the domain of the film and print industries.

Like all seminal albums 'All Is Dream' doesn't reveal itself straight away. You could even be mildly disappointed at first. Sooner or later though the genius does shine through. There is such a grand splendour to this offering that it will surely become a lasting classic. It is hard to see how Mercury Rev can spur themselves to even greater feats but their legend is now surely cast. They have proved once again that they are the best exponents of intelligent pop on the planet today.

Rating: 6.5/10

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And right out of the blue came Mercury Rev. Nearly men, who had crafted several flawed albums, until the magical opus that was Deserter's Songs reared its delicately patterned head. Add this album to their unforgettable intimate live performances and Mercury Rev rightfully holds pride of place on the a-list of innovative artists. Boces, like many of Mercury Rev's previous albums, was full of brilliant half ideas. What it lacked in focus, it made up in energy. Like 'Something For Joey', a song that ran ragged for minutes exposing an unpolished sheen that suggested that greatness was close at hand. ’Deserters Songs' is a different proposition altogether, however. Where Mercury Rev once fumbled in the dark with their undoubted genius, they now provide the bright lights for an art form in serious need of reinvention.

'Holes' kicks off proceedings in reflective mode. Lacking a distinct beat, this song turns the blueprint for modern music on its head. Imagine floating high above the clouds while catching a glimpse of celestial beings practising for that great gig in the sky. The quality of instrumentation is quite staggering, but what is more surprising is the thought of four men in their late thirties, one called Grasshopper, dictating matters. With a vast array of instruments being introduced at close intervals throughout 'Deserter Songs' it's not surprising that some of the tunes sound otherworldly. Take 'Endlessly' for example. Could it be those Chamberlin Strings, them Woodwinds, the Wurlitzer, that Mellotron or perhaps the B3 (instrument of the century anyone) that makes it sound like it is the most refreshing song you've ever heard? Hard to judge really, but one thing is for sure once you've heard 'Endlessly', it will impose an indelible impression.

This is Mercury Rev's great gift. They make the most natural of musical decisions by choosing the most appropriate instrument available. These decisions breathe life into their ideas. So when you hear a female voice shadowing on the outskirts of the 'Hudson Line' it fits perfectly, like that elusive last piece of a jigsaw you uncovered by chance down the back of the couch. 'Goddess on a Hiway', the first single to be released off the album signalled Jonathan Donahue and chums intentions. With a lithesome piano intro, the tune extends its amiable nature to befriend all comers. Donahue's vocals vary between a matter-of-fact and a harmonious delivery while the sound swell fills in the blanks. At other times it perfectly paints the sun rising over a cool blue ocean.

’Deserter Songs' inspires the use of analogies. Simple chord descriptions simply wouldn't do the album justice. 'Tonite It Shows' captures the scene where you're beneath the stars with your loved one and the world for a second becomes you're oyster, the moon you’re pearly gift. This is mood-enhancing stuff with Donahue’s vocals sounding vulnerable and affecting. 'Deserter Songs' is much more than a collection of instruments and people making a sound. The album paints a sea of innovative strokes with ideas strewn colourfully like fish in an aquatic collectors tank. Subtlety becomes an art form; grandiose enters the alternative arena and old men weep at the beauty of it all. It is the best Christmas album ever made such is its wide-eyed approach. At the end the listener is left with 'Delta Sun Bottleneck Stomp' to wash away all the pent up emotions, leaving us dizzy and ready to begin the adventure all over again. 'Deserter Songs' is an album to dance to, an album to cry to, an album to make love to and most off all an album to live life by. Not an adventure of a lifetime then, more one you can take every three-quarters of an hour.

Rating: 9/10

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Nick Drake's second album followed in the comet trail left by his wondrous debut 'Five Leaves Left'. Released in 1970 it shows little sign of ageing and despite being name dropped by all and sundry it largely remains an undiscovered classic. For students of the Belle & Sebastian school of melodic folk there is a seam of material awaiting you from this sadly underachieving (in his lifetime anyway) soul. With Drake's extraordinary predication for not telling things as they are the opening cut is dutifully named 'Introduction'. And what a majestic beginning it is too. The orchestration is as pretty as is imaginable being ably directed by Richard Kirby who was responsible for all the lush arrangements on the album. Bryter Layter reveals a large quotient of instrumentals, yet their presence ups rather than slows down the ante.

For such a supposed recluse it seems that Drake had little difficulty on counting on help from his contemporaries. For most tracks the acclaimed Richard Thompson fiddles about on guitar while the enigmatic John Cale (the Velvet Underground) adds in piano, organ and celeste asides. Drakes oft conveyed world-weariness is beautifully coloured by the jaunty playing. You'll find 'Hazy Jane 11' on 'Way To Blue' (a compilation) so its fluid escapades will hardly be new but that's not to say that they aren't welcome. The Van Morrison type trumpet fest shadows the bouncy percussion and Drake delivers a hearty attempt at vocal hopscotch. 'At The Chime Of A City Clock' is decorated with vast string arrangements and brass appendages that recall late night police dramas. It has a hushed demeanour that is hard to qualify at first; a few listens are required to see through the surface fog.

An unusually guarded soul not all that willing to directly open his soul, Nick Drake often paints landscapes and similes to get his message across. On 'One Of These Things First' we get as close as we're going to get to Drake's troubled interior. As he ponders how he arrived at where he is, he considers whether other roads could have changed the man he turned out to be. Of course this interpretation is subjective but it is revealing to listen to the words sans the wonderful cascading piano accompaniment. Like most prequels 'Hazey Jane 1' lays the groundwork for the follow up dramas. Operating at the speed of a kite it meanders over a foundation of acousticism and swooping arrangements. At times the orchestral manoeuvres resemble a long forgotten standard but I can't put my finger on it. As soothing as an everlasting cough sweet.

The title tracks instrumental forays perfectly conveys the seventies, all prim and proper, imagine wandering around London in an ill fitting tweed jacket and beat up brown leather clogs without feeling in the slightest bit embarrassed. The flute playing is exquisite like Jethro Toll himself had dropped in to add his bleak midwinterish two-penny's worth. As you try to disseminate 'Fly' you can almost hear Drake struggling to come up with a fresh idea. As the motley ensemble of instruments and vocas finally settles on a singular path it sounds like a celestial apparition. Naive and gloriously enjoyable for this reason alone. As is Drake's want 'Poor Boy' turns out to be a funky gospel jazz hybrid. Perfect music for an over indulging party of pretentious twits bloated on caviar and Ferrero Rocher. While this may sound like ordinary folk like you and me should avoid it then you'd be right. It's pretty naff, out of context among the surrounding beauty, like a chip van parked near a pyramid.

Order is restored instantly with the breezy effervescence of 'Northern Sky'. Shuffling as shyly towards your mind as a bear cub yet possessing more allure than 101 Dalmatians this is the sound of a small waterfall on a cool winter morning. The celeste adds a mystical quality as Drake comes across as the heroic hobbit. Buy the album and become part of his Fellowship. There is something frightening yet alluring about the flute playing that opens the instrumental and closing track 'Sunday'. Conjuring images of being lost on a windswept and lonely mountain the scene is somewhat arrested as the song fills out with the emergence of an ensemble of acoustic guitars and violins. By the end of a hectic journey a bath of goats milk is somewhat spoiled by its lactic disposition. Oh I don't know what I'm talking about either it's just the effect that such spectral music can have on ones imagination.

'Bryter Layter' is surprisingly short, the experience seems to end mid climax. That said for the time it takes to play there are more adventurous directions that your likely to find on most albums. The atmosphere is detached yet alluring, the playing is highly accomplished and the lyrics are intelligent and thoughtful. Little short of a classic then, don't waste any time, your CD player needs a good recalibration.

Rating: 8.5/10

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