His first solo album since 1984's About Face sees former Pink Floydian (it's a recently coined word) David Gilmour in fine fettle. The playful, four minute, opening of Castellorizon, sets an instrumental tone, reminiscent of the hurricane scene of The Wizard of Oz - but let's not go there. We get our first taste of Gilmour's familiar and soothing voice on the titular track On An Island. Undoubtedly his vocals have weakened slightly; however, he appears aware of his limitations and substitutes with effective musical arrangements, and [still] superlative guitar playing. All of which has his trademark airiness hugging the listener to its bosom before taking us gliding. Once again the collaboration with his wife Polly Samson - she wrote a fair portion of the lyrics on The Division Bell - is a seemingly effortless one. If you can get beyond the lyrics of moonlight, sunlight and so on, and let yourself drift along with the seascape and concept, you'll find yourself in Gilmour's comfortable place, which is adequately summed up in the dreamy This Is Heaven: 'I need no blessings but I'm counting mine.' Having just turned sixty, the themes of aging, earning and the simple truths of life figure prominently in On An Island, and Syd Barrett is ever-present, particularly in A Pocketful Of Stones. Whatever Gilmour's regrets, experiences and private ruminations, there seems to be a solid core to the man and a content sense of self, which translates in this intimate album. With backing vocals from David Crosby and Graham Nash, Gilmour's third solo outing is what you might expect of this fascinating example of talent-realised. Granted there isn't anything groundbreaking here, but having broken so much ground in his youth, Gilmour really doesn't have anything to prove.