With The Haunting, Clandestine's follow-up to their stunning debut album The Ale is Dear, the Houston-based contemporary Celtic trio expands to four and takes a more ambitious approach with their sophomore effort. The result is that The Haunting is a more mature, layered and complex album, which is both positive and negative.

The most noticeable change is the addition of Emily Dugas as Clandestine's full-time percussionist, something the band lacked before. Dugas also possesses a powerful voice, and uses it to powerful effect in harmony with and backing up lead singer and guitarist Jennifer Hamel. This is on full display on "Cannonball," with their ominous, overlapping vocal introduction "My son John was tall and slim / And he had a leg for every limb." The simple, stark arrangement of Dugas' congas and distant echo of E.J. Jones' bagpipes set this up as a moody, powerful piece that's not light listening.

Clandestine's trademark jig and reel medleys are here as well. "The Slip Jigs from Hell" combine "Paddy Be Aisy" and "The Cock & Hen" -- both nightmares for guitarists -- with "The Fiddler's Wife" for a rousing cascade of contrasting tunes, and the title track puts "The Haunting" together with Jones' original "Wicked Reel" and the traditional "Famous Bridge" and "Charlie's Welcome" for a more ethereal, though no less energetic set.

The show-stopper, though, is the album's opening track. Age literally oozes from "Dunlavy's Castle," a traditional tragic love story of knights and treachery that rings so true that it wasn't until I read the liner notes that I realized Hamel wrote it herself, and not arranged it from some ancient ballad. "Four hundred men stood square on the beach / Beneath Dunlavy's Castle / And alone down there, and all unaware / Her lord was riding home." Hamel is so authoritative singing that the listener is almost compelled to pick up a history book to learn about the real Dunlavy -- alas, it's a futile venture. Hamel took the name from a street she once lived by.

For all of Clandestine's obvious growth, The Haunting isn't a perfect work. While the addition of Dugas has allowed the band more flexibility and the ability to experiment and take chances, her voice is so strong that it dilutes a lot of the impact of Hamel's vocals. There's certainly no erotic vocal seductions this time as there were on The Ale is Dear. And while the arrangements and performances are flawless, there's a certain lack of spontaneity in this perfection that infused their debut and charged each track with electricity. There's still an energy here, but it's a good two steps removed from the sparks Clandestine throws off during its live shows. Here's hoping that they bottle some of that lightning for their eventual third release.