Some have expressed surprise at the pairing of Isobel Campbell, the sweet voiced sometime-singer with Belle and Sebastian and now relatively succesful solo artist in her own right, with Mark Lannegan, one-time singer with the now defunct Screaming Trees as well as collaborator with the likes of The Queens of the Stone Age and Twighlight Singer’s Greg Dulli. In truth few combinations sound so natural or have produced songs of such balance and grace.

It’s not a new idea. Indeed, when Campbell decided she needed a male voice to work on a collection of her songs she spoke in terms of a Lee Peters/Nancy Sinatra style combination. Choosing Lannegan was a brave bet, as one needs confidence-cojones to duet with American music’s most distinctive and lived in voice (at least now that Johnny Cash has gone). Campbell’s voice is in itself pleasing to the ear, but might have difficulty in standing out during an aural identification parade.

A brave bet, then, but has it paid off? On first listening I thought not. Having been overwhelmed by Lannegan’s solo album Bubblegum, which includes a noticeable duet with PJ Harvey on Hit the City, this record seemed, if anything, a let down. But…

A month or two later, a melody bubbled in the back of my mind, and eventually revealed itself to be The Circus is Leaving town. Buried like a sleeper cell, or a slow ticking bomb, this well structured, considered song brought me back to the album. And how glad was I that I made the return journey, because there are some great moments on this album.

You could be mistaken in places for thinking that the record was penned by Lannegan, with Campbell the guest vocalist brought in to bring some atmospherics in. While the sound is predominantly world-weary americana, the songwriter in charge is the scottish Campbell. The brilliant job she has done in framing Lannegan’s should lead to a queue of men begging for songs from her. Deus Ibi Est, for example, could easily have Mr Nick Cave pricking his ears up with interest.

Indeed Cave is an interesting reference point, because much of this record’s best moments hang on the contrast between Campbell’s feather-light, pure voice and Lannegan’s whiskey-soaked growls, just as Cave’s collaboration with Kylie Minogue brought together light and darkness. Ballad of the Broken Seas is a dark brooding record, with sexual tension and violence contained within it’s never more than gentle rythms. The interesting thing, though, is that it’s at its darkest only when both Campbell and Lannegan sing together. When Lannegan sings alone, “I bring you a tale of the broken seas, and I’m drowning in whiskey and beer”, it almost sounds upbeat, whereas when Campbell joins him on do you want to come walk with me , singing together “I’m not saying that I love you, I won’t say I’ll be true, there’s a crimson bird flying when I go down on you”, it sounds as if one or other of them, or perhaps both, needs to be locked up before something unspeakable happens.

A generous, brave, and catchy collaboration then from Campbell. How dumb could I have been not to have recognised it from the start…