In one of the many times I listened to Fire in the Sea, I was headed west on I-64. The other people riding in the car with me were busy so I popped in an earbud and started listening to Maria Shiel's album. The brief intro "Sea" with its crashing waves is followed by "Calling Me Back." Maybe it was the context of hearing the song (the sun was shining, traffic was fairly light and the trees had just started showing fall colors), but that sensory connection of driving on an open road was instantly bonded to that song. And later on in the album, "Call Home" crystallizes that impression.

Every time I've listened to this album (and it's been several since then), I still get a desire to just head out somewhere ... anywhere ... just not stay put. The album has an energy that makes some kind of a journey feel essential.

While it's especially evident in the two aforementioned songs, most of the album evokes an "open road" sound in the same vein as country-western greats Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard or folk legend John Denver. As bold as that comparison is, I'm confident it holds up. Shiel may have a younger-sounding voice, but she wields it with an air of maturity and a soulful edge.

Take "Ebb of the Wave" for a perfect example of her soulful, mature sound, with a bit of sultry for good measure. When she crescendos to the title phrase, she doesn't just fall into the outburst but uses a measured control. No one would blame her for leaning full into it, but she shows that she's very much in charge of the song. If you are interested in seeing a visual component, Shiel has uploaded this track to YouTube with an accompanying anime video that blends a prevalence of water with beautiful autumnal colors.

Please don't think that wielding control in one song means that Shiel holds anything back. In part of "Broken Road," Shiel smoothly climbs up and down the scale, keeping an energetic pacing while retaining a very thoughtful, intentional tone. It's such a smooth, effortless transition between notes that it doesn't seem like a difficult task, yet we all know it can't be that easy. Shiel shows off her vocal versatility "Bedrock & Waterline," especially with the repetitive -- and wonderfully addictive -- chorus.

Another prevalent quality in Shiel's musical approach is honesty. In the completely instrumental track "Gairim Na Gaoithe/Call of the Wind," we get to share in the performance. Instead of only hearing the instrument, we hear her take each breath. This is often edited out in instrumental tracks, but leaving the breaths in establishes a more personal, almost intimate mood. (Reviewer's apology/disclaimer: I know next to nothing about the instrument she is playing, other than the fact that it sounds quite lovely. I think it's a low whistle, but here's a downside of digital music -- no album notes.) The honesty extends to lyrics and subject matter. In "Diamonds of Dust," it's almost cruel how Shiel makes such a beautiful song with such a tragic context (Trail of Tears). The poetic lyrics and eloquent sound are sure to make you simultaneously appreciative and guilty for enjoying the song.

I do have a very tiny nitpick. The artist chooses to use the word "home" in the chorus in multiple songs: "Calling Home," "Diamonds of Dust" and "Chant." Initially, I thought each song was varied enough that the repetition wasn't too noticeable.

Regardless, this album was truly a delight to experience. The funny thing is due to technical difficulties on my end, I almost didn't get a chance to hear it. Thankfully I reached out to Shiel and got access to the album restored. I'll vouch that Fire in the Sea is certainly worth every effort to listen.

[ visit Maria Shiel online ]