I have to be honest that it’s a real ego-jack to preview this one, being that I’ve spent a lot of time in both halves of the world that could be considered Enya’s bread-and-butter crossover market, comprising that odd marriage of the wicca/ren-faire space and the yoga/new-age people. I suppose everyone has their impressions of this ridiculously private Irish lady, as do I (most, but not all, of her music is welcome when I’m downward-dogging or debating the usefulness of pyramids and crystals with people who need that stuff to hang on to in this often crappy world). The stuff I don’t like is her po-faced, mawkish bum-outs, such as this album’s minor-key lullaby waltz “So I Could Find My Way,” but it’s part of the brand, and mostly, yeah, her stuff is astounding, slow-mo carousels of incredibly dreamlike sounds (here, “The Forge of the Angels” will make you think of steady-as-she-goes downtime on Baron Munchausen’s airship) laid next to uniquely angelic hymns (“Sancta Maria”).  The lady isn’t infallible these days — “I Could Never Say Goodbye” is an embarrassing mishmash of familiar pop melodies, mostly Elvis’ “I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You.” It’s troubling that she let that one slip past, but aside from that — well, jeez, it’s another fantastic Enya record full of depthlessly spiritual music for agnostics and evangelicals alike. A