SINGAPORE — Oonagh’s self-titled album sounds like the musical lovechild of Enya and Howard Shore, casting an instant impression of elves and hobbits running along the rivers of Middle-earth but wrapped up with an overwhelming German flavour. Some of the songs are particularly painful to hear, sounding as if they came directly out of a Viking conclave - the male vocal in several of the tracks don’t help either. In addition, the language barrier also serves as a immense obstacle in truly appreciating the Ethno-pop tracks. What does make listening to Oonagh’s hour-long album tolerable is her dainty soprano lilt, which barely balances out the heavier grooves and Mediterranean-pop styles present. It’s Oonagh’s voice that serves as the accompaniment to the overwhelming thump of what seems to be the incorporation of sorts of instruments. Listened repeatedly, the album does get better, especially with songs like Falke Flieg and Faolan. But that is a big problem, why should it take half a dozen listens to hear something good, that should’ve revealed itself almost immediately? The album would’ve been a bigger success if they just killed the pomp and made this into a solo vocal piece with light acoustic instruments as the backing. Perhaps Oonagh should have taken a leaf out of Enya’s songbook, where despite the overwhelming ’80s synth sound, the focus was always on the singer’s vocals.