An album of acoustic guitar - but not like any other single acoustic guitarist I can think of. Several, yes - Leo Kottke, Nick Drake, John Fahey, John McLaughlin - but not one.

But then John Fairhurst’s background is as eclectic as his fine debut. Having mastered his fretwork playing in local rock outfits and listening to Captain Beefheart, Fairhurst headed for Asia where he passed the time playing slide guitar in Bangkok blues bars and writing music for traditional Thai dances. Oh, and while he was listening to Beefheart’s twisted blues he also had an Indian master of the sarod staying with his family in Wigan. It’s a mad mélange of experiences that have left a mark.

Blues underpins two of the opening three tracks - driving blues on ‘Obnox Stomp’, more languid hillbilly airs on ‘Yew Tree Blues’. In between ‘Passing Time’ offers a pretty very English folky piece that could hardly be more different.

But what probably most marks out this album - other than Fairhurst’s sheer dexterity - are its Eastern inflections. The first hint comes on ‘At The River’ where you suddenly find yourself hearing slices of raga appearing effortlessly out of a flurry of folksy blues chords. Tempi rise and fall as your ears dip between east and west, startled by the seamlessness of it all.

You get the full on Indian experience on ‘How Far How Fast’, which sounds like an old Delta bluesman who’s been handed a sitar - an outstanding meeting at midnight crossroads between raga and the blues.

‘Shivver’ is as gripping as it is totally different. Trembling chords rise slowly out of the speakers like dark mist on a bayou, while Fairhurst’s Bangkok blues hang in the background, sliding in and out of the with steely precision - like a mini horror yarn told in sound. ‘On The Run’ starts with a delicious creep too before setting off across a mythical prairie on a wind of bluesy harmonica. There’s a wonderful sense of teetering between tight control and a headlong dash as the chords flicker and spiral, relying on rhythm without melody to great effect.

If ‘Shivver’ and ‘On The Run’ speak of the wide open space of America, ‘Friends’ and ‘Dawn’ move along Celtic shores - as pretty in their way as ‘Passing Time’ yet aching with a melancholy that fills the later tracks.

The final track, ‘Joys of Spring’, seems ironically entitled - a dark beauty that starts off like a suicide note played on a banjo before taking off towards a rising sun in the East on a carpet of percussion, rattling things and bird song.

So, a standout acoustic guitar album in 2008 - well, I’ll be plucked.

Norman Miller