Nick Drake always seemed to be one of those singer-songwriters whose works are so personal, so idiosyncratic in their musical structure and intimate in their lyric confession that they defy interpretation. The late British singer, who died in 1974 at the age of twenty-six, wrote from a pit in his soul so dark that his recorded works (collected in the 1986 box set Fruit Tree) have gone virtually uncovered, until now. Guitarist-singer Scott Appel covers no less than six Drake songs on the CD version of Nine of Swords (the LP has fewer tracks) and complements those with his own Drake-influenced originals. The result is a compelling salute to Drake's tortured genius.

Appel succeeds where others have feared to tread because he's mastered Drake's unique guitar style: a blend of harmonically inventive chords, resonant open tunings and haunting melodies imbued with a kind of wounded but indomitable optimism. In songs like "Bird Flew By" and "Blossom," both previously unrecorded Drake compositions, Appel achieves that balance of pained wistfulness and cautious hope by lacing his guitar parts with a subtle assertiveness and putting a slight, affirmative edge in his voice.

Appel takes what might be considered serious liberties with "Far Leys," a collection of unrecorded Drake instrumental fragments, by greatly embellishing the pieces and taking a co-writing credit as well. In fact, he takes the fragments to their logical conclusion. Drake no doubt would have approved of Appel's initiative.

Drake would certainly have been flattered by original Appel compositions like "Somnus" and "Thanatopsis," which expand on Drake's chamber-folk sound. Nine of Swords, of course, is no substitute for Nick Drake's original recordings. But it is a sensitive and overdue tribute to a troubled young man whose legacy has been treated with a museum reverence for far too long. (RS 560)

DAVID FRICKE