The story behind the creation of Ourouboros (named after an ancient symbol depicting a serpent eating it's own tail), the sixth album from Ray LaMontagne, almost deserves a review in its own right. Find it. It will blow your mind. Thankfully what we're actually dealing with here is a mighty fine album, a return to form some might say, from a singer-songwriter who seems to have been around forever, but at the same time still be pushing the boundaries of possibility with his considerable talent.

Co-produced with My Morning Jacket's Jim James, Ouroboros is split in to two 'Parts'. Part One gets underway with the swooning, reverb-drenched, 'Homecoming'. Quintessentially LaMontagne, its languid piano figures and layered close-harmony vocals get the album off to a beautiful start. It comes as something of a surprise, as the song's crescendo-ing coda reaches its full stature, to realise that we have been loping through its patient 6/8 for more than eight minutes. It is not a second too long. Rhythm section Seth Kaufman (bass) and Dave Givan (drums) come beautifully to the fore on the lazy electric groove of 'Hey, No Pressure', latterly superbly augmented by Dan Dorff and Kevin Ratterman's keys and Moog. Perhaps I'm out of touch, but it feels initially jarring to hear LaMontagne rocking out like this, as if pitching for the blissed-out psych rock crowd, but as 'Hey, No Pressure' dissolves into the fuzzy squall of 'The Changing Man', and LaMontagne repeatedly intones “I am the changing man”, it seems that the broadened scope of his musical ambition truly suits him. Surprising it might be, but as the controlled chaos of this particular track morphs in to 'While It Still Beats' with a gloriously developed key change to round out Part One, LaMontagne's voice takes on an urgent, angst-ridden tone totally at odds with the relaxed yet insistent musical backdrop. Part One, then, concludes with a synthesised angelic choir.

Where can the album go from here, as Part Two begins? Back in to more familiar territory, as it happens. “Close my eyes, I'm miles away. I'll spend the day in my own way”, Ray tells us on a track which might well have found a home on “Trouble” all those years ago. We find ourselves in a gently-grooving 4/4 this time, as Jim James adds plenty of tasteful rhythm guitar. 'Another Day' calms things still further, with a distant piano providing the primary instrumentation. It simply is a very pretty song. 'A Murmuration of Starlings', an instrumental, is next. This could be deemed a mere interlude, but it builds in a special way in to closing track 'Wouldn't It Make a Lovely Photograph', a country-tinged ballad, containing the essaying gentle groove which is at the heart of so much of this album. "When I am with you I'm right where I belong" Ray tells us. The feeling's mutual. Going out with a (frustrated?) bang, "Never gonna hear this song on the radio" is his final message. It's a pity that he's probably right.

Is this Ray LaMontagne's finest album? Probably. It's so different from the majority of his previous output that it might take some time to truly get to grips with. The coherence of the whole record is a joy. It would be too easy to dismiss this fine album. Don't do that. Instead enjoy one of 2016's most ambitious and fully-realised efforts from a singer-songwriter.