Something I'm enjoying almost as much as being with my MAL is his music collection. His tastes are more eclectic than mine, and he never disappoints in introducing me to good music. Clann an Drumma is an excellent example. They're a tribal Scottish band with a heavy emphasis on bagpipes and percussion—how could I resist? He has has two of their releases, Keep it Tribal (which is their motto, or ought to be given its frequent appearance on their web site) and Tribal Eyes, and while different, both are superb. The fiery resistance to English rule displayed in Banners—a bit too quietly for my taste, but nothing some engineering couldn't rectify—gives the nod to Tribal Eyes as my favorite. If you don't like pipes, or drums, you will not like Clann an Drumma's music—but if you do, are you in for a Scottish treat! For visual along with audio, check out this YouTube Clann and Drumma vid, especially if you want to see some enthusiastic drumming.
And now that I'm with MAL, I can listen to a wider range of music (read: melancholy or sad songs about love) without dissolving into tears. I wasn't looking for that style, but found an immensely rich and satisfying disc in David Gray's Life in Slow Motion. Deceptively easy on the ears, Gray's versatile voice and lean instrumentation are easy to enjoy as background music, until one's attention is snagged by a lyric, and then the bounty within the smooth style becomes clear. Each song on this disc has its own style, yet they all fit together very nicely. Choosing highlights is difficult, but if pressed, Now and Always, From Here You Can Almost See the Sea, primarily because of his lovely high register, The One I Love, and Disappearing World make the cut. Life in Slow Motion is a treasured find that adds some pleasant—albeit bittersweet—texture to my listening.