The magnum opus from this near-legendary folksinger, Penguin Eggs stands in a virtual class by itself — a folk record built on playing of such virtuosity that anyone who enjoys guitar, of any type or style, should hear it; a body of traditional songs played with an immediacy and urgency that transcends any dry notions of scholarship; and a record that stands astride the opposing virtues of youth and antiquity, in its execution and source, respectively. Penguin Eggs is one of those rare records were not just every song, but each instrumental part is worth hearing. Jones’ singing, some of the most expressive to emerge from the English folk revival, has a richness reminiscent of a young Martin Carthy but also elements of the honest roughness in the work of A.L. Lloyd and Paul Clayton. The vocals are attractive enough to make this record a keeper, but what makes this album truly special, and alluring to modern listeners, even 20 years after its release, is the playing — Jones’ acoustic guitar work is so lyrical, elegant, and sinewy on Penguin Eggs, and gets such spirited (yet economical) support from Tony Hall and Bridget Danby, on melodeon and recorder, respectively, that it would be worth hearing just as an instrumental album, and could show a hardcore traditionalists a thing or two about virtuoso showmanship as well. Moreover, the harmony singing, provided by Danby and Dave Burland, gives this record some of the same appeal that one came to expect from groups such as early Steeleye Span and Fairport Convention, though the use of purely acoustic instruments puts Penguin Eggs in a category completely separate from them. – Bruce Eder