Review: The Cranberries, as delicate as on their debut

Many may shudder a little at the return of Limerick's Cranberries.

They had seemed wonderful on early-Nineties hits Linger and Dreams, with their delicate touch. But Zombie saw Dolores O'Riordan adopt a hectoring battle cry, and then she didn't stop telling us off about Bosnia, John Lennon's death or our tearaway kids.

Happily, the first album for a decade returns to their debut's delicate mood. The sole sermon, Tomorrow, is a well-meant ticking-off for the younger generation.

We hear the hard side of Dolores' voice just twice, on Show Me The Way and Schizophrenic Playboy. Conduct chugs appealingly, wrapped in Linger-style strings; Fire & Soul is hushed and pretty. You may find you're pleased to hear from The Cranberries again.