Kate Rusby – Underneath The Stars

The whole affair could so easily be precious. A comely Yorkshire lass sets a bunch of traditional lyrics about milking maids, castles and Robin the miller to music. Adds a few antique-sounding originals. Includes a cittern and flugelhorn among the accompanying instruments. Delivers the songs in a manner so measured and understated that a passing breeze could drown her out.

Ah, but just a minute. This is Kate Rusby, veteran of four solo albums of superlative folk music. Rusby has an unerring ear for quiet but addictive melodies; a sweet, slightly dusky voice in which any sensible person would cheerfully drown; and the good sense to know that, as in birdsong, the rests are as full of message as the notes.

Rusby is also far too smart and adventurous to get caught in the traditional folk rut, as charming as that may be. Last time out, on 2001s

Little Lights, she got a tad too elaborate, with a list of session players as long as your arm and tracks that, while often wonderful in themselves, never quite jelled.

This time, with John McCusker (fiddle, banjo, whistles), Ewen Vernal (double bass) and other Rusby veterans on board, the music is both simpler and brighter, one tune yielding to the next with an uncommon grace. Rusby will have trouble topping this one.