The unlikely pairing of so-quiet-listen-carefully-or-you’ll-miss-her songstress Campbell and the gravel-voiced Lanegan return for their 3^rd collaboration, a record which thrives on the great rapport that has grown between the two of them.

Yet again, it’s a partnership that works (so too the tracks featuring Willy Mason): and what is revealed on Hawk is a great sense of maturity across each track. No duds here; this is a mature, coherent and polished set that draws from a range of blues, soul and country influences. And perhaps, therein lies the biggest problem with it. Don’t get me wrong – there’s a lot to like about Hawk, which is a record resonant with Campbell’s confidence as a songwriter. But the innovation and shock which accompanied Ballad of the Broken Seas just isn’t present, and the contrast of the two voices isn’t the unique draw it once was. For instance, although there’s an threatening undercurrent to “Snake Song”, there’s less sense of danger than in previous outings – principally, the danger that things are about to get overwhelming and fly apart. Good as it is, it’s not quite incendiary enough to set the heather alight.

There is invention here, but in the main there are fewer surprises than in the two previous Campbell and Lanegan records. Indeed, it’s the two tracks that foreground Campbell on her own – “Sunrise” and “To Hell and Back Again”, placed back to back following the slightly inexplicable title track – that really stand out (along with “You Won’t Let Me Down Again” and “Time of the Season”). Those are tracks in which Campbell’s own quirkiness is allowed freer reign, and they certainly leave me wishing for a full follow up to 2006’s Milkwhite Sheets, or, more particularly, 2003’s Amorino. That being said, this is development rather than innovation, and Hawk as a whole is absolutely worth your time and their effort.