Over the course of a long listening life, I have been exposed to thousands of songs in a range of genres. By the time I reached my early adulthood, I realized I favored the various forms of folk and roots music more than any of the rest. Still, I like to think I recognize a good song wherever it comes from and whatever the circumstances of its making.

But to me a more curious thing is the discovery of the rare song that I never tire of. There are songs I like, even a whole lot, for a while, and then they lose whatever moved me about them and become just, well, songs. If I were ordered to write down the immortal songs in my life, a fair number would be out of the Irish tradition. Much of the core of that tradition can be heard on The Great Irish Songbook. I do wish, though, that "The Cliffs o' Doneen" were here.

Dervish, who refer to themselves in the plural, are celebrating their third decade since forming in Sligo and Leitrim on Ireland's northwest coast. Six in number, they've been successful not only in their native land but as an international touring act. This is their 13th album. Now signed to the powerhouse indie label Rounder Records, they've elected to use their debut release to celebrate the standards.

Dervish are among the modernist bands starting with the pioneering Planxty and Bothy Band in the 1970s -- that, fusing instrumental and vocal traditions, fashioned a quasi-orchestral approach to performance of Irish folk. On their current release they enlist some guest vocalists, mostly American with the occasional English person. For reasons unclear to me, country star Vince Gill sings "On Ragland Road" at the top of his range, which affords the song an unsettling, spooky affect, more ghost story than lovesick blues. Kelvin Damrell of the Nashville-based, neo-bluegrass SteelDrivers sings the outlaw ballad "There's Whiskey in the Jar" not badly but perhaps a little jarringly. Heretofore, just about every reading has been Irish in its every nook and cranny, most famously in the Dubliners' fierce rebel arrangement.

On the other hand, two particularly outstanding cuts are by Americans, including a mesmerizing treatment of "The May Morning Dew" -- about as sad a song as ever written about anything -- by Rhiannon Giddens and an unexpectedly moving "The Fields of Athenry" by Nashville country singer Jamey Johnson.

Cathy Jordan, ordinarily Dervish's lead vocalist and celebrated in Ireland for her magnificent gift, contributes the cheerful "The Rambling Irishman" and the mournful "Donal Og." I learn here that the often sung "Down by the Sally Gardens" is derived from an amalgamation of a Yeats poem and two traditional songs, "The Rambling Boys of Pleasure" and "The Moorlough Shore." Here it's performed in exquisite fashion by the estimable Kate Rusby.

Having already included The Great Irish Songbook on my Best of 2019 list (Rambles.NET, 7 December), I have nothing left to say except that if you're encountering these songs for the first time, you'll likely be thunderstruck. If you already know them, you'll be thrilled at how perfectly Dervish transform the familiar and brighten their already luminous beauty.