Somewhere in America, a policeman is going about his business unaware that he's been celebrated in music. It's upbeat music, too, without a hint of the bitterness or recrimination that might be expected from a composer feeling aggrieved at treatment received.

Somewhere in America, a policeman is going about his business unaware that he's been celebrated in music. It's upbeat music, too, without a hint of the bitterness or recrimination that might be expected from a composer feeling aggrieved at treatment received.

But then Chris Stout does enjoy finding - or placing - elation in his compositions. This latest outing by the Shetland fiddler's quintet featured lots of Stout's upward melodic swoops, although it was far from one-paced. If Stout is composing at a high level, using the Scandinavian influence on Shetland's music to exhilarating effect, he is also playing the traditional slow airs of the islands, such as Auld Swaara, with uncommon finesse, deep feeling and a very personal tone.

Stout's quintet is geared to both extremes and much more, allowing for dramatic changes of mood and offering a variety of instrumental settings and approaches, from raking fiddle and harp duo through collectively improvised reflection to the full-on fiddle, soprano saxophone, piano, guitar and double-bass frenzy that sends Scandanonymous towards its joyous, dancing coda.

Partnering Stout in the front line, Fraser Fifield produces a lovely saxophone sound that has become as much a part of the group's identity as Stout's own commanding presence. Fifield's soloing over the tricky compound time signature of Devil's Advocate was a model of grace-and-danger extemporising, and his positioning alongside Stout's fiddle lines shows real understanding and feeling for the music.

Credit also to John Allan, who replaced regular bassist Neil Harland with admirable coolness and made a subtle but substantial contribution to a band that marries tradition and technical know-how with an ability to excite the senses.