Coming late to the folk revival party that could be understood to have begun in the late ‘50s, Pentangle was made up of an immense array of talent that, somehow, when congregated never full reached the zenith of some of its members’ other endeavors. Mostly, I’m thinking about Bert and John. While not generally mentioned in the States as an important milestone in the folk resurgence, that duo’s disc can be seen as some rebirth on that bejeweled isle, England. There were certainly some missteps – mostly tied to the vocal led numbers, but those slighty blemished moments seem to surpass most of the Pentangle catalog.

The end of the first phase of the folk come rock ensemble is usually accepted to be 1972’s Solomon’s Seal. Through the rest of the group’s catalog, its adherence to folk tropes and the avoidance of electrified instruments did sit them in a singular category – and one that not too many others tread upon while gaining the kind of fame this group did. That being said, the inclusion of standards in the group’s albums never fell away, but its eventual acceptance of more modern perspectives on folk had changed by the ’72 effort.

Of course there’re still a good many traditional songs – as well as tracks led by Jacqui McShee instead of her guitar playing compatriots. The addition of a sitar on “The Snow” is unquestionably a welcome innovation on this disc – and while it’s a surprising supplement to the music at first, it works out pretty well. A slight medieval touch to the melody’s progression serves to drag the effort down a bit, but can’t obscure the interesting composition. That being said, elsewhere, the fairies make themselves a bit too apparent for all but the recreationist and a few frumps dressed as maidens. That’s a slight criticism for a group that’s able to cover so much ground, though. And it’s in this ability, that the addition of the electric guitar makes itself auspiciously apparent.

“Sally, Free and Easy,” a traditional track, augmented by some forward looking instrumentation by Pentangle is not only the album’s early – and perhaps only real – highlight, but also a glimpse into what this line-up was still able at achieving. The laid back opening, with an enormous bass tone and familiar vocal progression is joined by vague electric guitar warbling. The addition of the plugged in instrument can’t be said to be overwhelming, surely, though, it was decried by some purists much like that aforementioned sitar. But what that guitar does, in addition to simply sounding good, is add an overt jazz element to the track eventually wavering into some psych inspired noodling making the instrumental passage of this song one of the most enduring of the group’s catalog. Of course, there were other instances of such playfulness, but it didn’t always come off as well.

It’s odd to thing that this album is generally thought of only as an ending point, whereas it should, perhaps be considered as a statement of what could have been. Solomon’s Seal isn’t an tremendous triumph for Pentangle, but a bit of adroit maneuvering between genres.