San Diego is not exactly known as a hotbed of contemporary bluegrass music, but then again, Nickel Creek are a far cry from most bluegrass bands you've ever heard. On their Alison Krauss-produced debut, they serve up a lilting, ethereal fusion of bluegrass, Celtic, modern folk, and even classical influences, offering exquisite harmonies that would be more at home at a Crosby, Stills & Nash tribute than at a musical salute to the late Bill Monroe. Yet it makes for delightful listening, all the same. The three principals (Sara Watkins on fiddle and vocals; her brother Sean Watkins on guitar, mandolin, and vocals; and Chris Thile on mandolin, banjo, bouzouki, and vocals) are either barely out of their teens or still in them. Individually and as a band, they've already won a slew of awards and notoriety on their respective instruments. The three prodigies (joined by Thile's dad, Scott, on bass) really strut their eclectic hot licks on a few soaring, skittering instrumentals, but even more impressive are Nickel Creek's graceful, heartfelt harmonies on the many lovely ballads. Hot licks, when you get right down to it, are a dime a dozen; this sort of pluperfect tunefulness is a much rarer thing.
San Diego is not exactly known as a hotbed of contemporary bluegrass music, but then again, Nickel Creek are a far cry from most bluegrass bands you've ever heard. On their Alison Krauss-produced debut, they serve up a lilting, ethereal fusion of bluegrass, Celtic, modern folk, and even classical influences, offering exquisite harmonies that would be more at home at a Crosby, Stills & Nash tribute than at a musical salute to the late Bill Monroe. Yet it makes for delightful listening, all the same. The three principals (Sara Watkins on fiddle and vocals; her brother Sean Watkins on guitar, mandolin, and vocals; and Chris Thile on mandolin, banjo, bouzouki, and vocals) are either barely out of their teens or still in them. Individually and as a band, they've already won a slew of awards and notoriety on their respective instruments. The three prodigies (joined by Thile's dad, Scott, on bass) really strut their eclectic hot licks on a few soaring, skittering instrumentals, but even more impressive are Nickel Creek's graceful, heartfelt harmonies on the many lovely ballads. Hot licks, when you get right down to it, are a dime a dozen; this sort of pluperfect tunefulness is a much rarer thing.
San Diego is not exactly known as a hotbed of contemporary bluegrass music, but then again, Nickel Creek are a far cry from most bluegrass bands you've ever heard. On their Alison Krauss-produced debut, they serve up a lilting, ethereal fusion of bluegrass, Celtic, modern folk, and even classical influences, offering exquisite harmonies that would be more at home at a Crosby, Stills & Nash tribute than at a musical salute to the late Bill Monroe. Yet it makes for delightful listening, all the same. The three principals (Sara Watkins on fiddle and vocals; her brother Sean Watkins on guitar, mandolin, and vocals; and Chris Thile on mandolin, banjo, bouzouki, and vocals) are either barely out of their teens or still in them. Individually and as a band, they've already won a slew of awards and notoriety on their respective instruments. The three prodigies (joined by Thile's dad, Scott, on bass) really strut their eclectic hot licks on a few soaring, skittering instrumentals, but even more impressive are Nickel Creek's graceful, heartfelt harmonies on the many lovely ballads. Hot licks, when you get right down to it, are a dime a dozen; this sort of pluperfect tunefulness is a much rarer thing.
