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The New Edge (1993) By Ralph Burnett The Oxford English dictionary defines alchemy as the "pursuit of the transmutation of baser metals into gold," and like grapes to good wine, many have strived to refine those metals into something far greater than the sum of their individual parts. Acoustic Alchemy is truly the fine wine of light instrumental music and with the release of their seventh album, The New Edge, I must say they have aged nicely.   I was first introduced to Acoustic Alchemy as a young promotions intern at MCA Records back in 1987 when Red Dust and Spanish Lace emerged on the company's forward-looking Master Series label. The English duo won my affection instantly as those energetic melodies and glossy hooks infiltrated my brain time and again. It is no accident that when the "wave" radio format was launched that same year, Acoustic Alchemy became a defining staple of that format. Here we are, seven very successful albums later (and a long time since a few lucky travelers knew Acoustic Alchemy as the in-flight entertainment on Virgin Airlines), and it is gratifying to know that I am not alone in lauding Acoustic Alchemy as one of the most penatrating light instrumental groups making music today. Stretching from the flamenco-folk and Spanish-classical fret work we have grown to expect, to fronting a large orchestra, The New Edge is a solid continuation of the groups rich musical legacy. Underscored by their signature sound of nylon-stringed and steel-stringed guitars, Nick Webb and Greg Carmichael take us once again on a journey through the latticework of masterful melodies with detours through some mindfully adventurous solos. While it is evident that Greg and Nick continue to explore various musical influences, the translation remains the same: a kind of lyricless story that has become Acoustic Alchemy's trademark. "On the road," comments Nick, "people often ask about the meaning of a certain track or title, who or what the inspiration behind a piece of our music. Sometimes we can explain and sometimes we just don't know ourselves. Instrumental music can be a nebulous medium, without a lyric to define it the listener can make the music mean almost anything he or she wants -- I Know, I do it all the time." The Oxford English dictionary defines alchemy as the "pursuit of the transmutation of baser metals into gold," and like grapes to good wine, many have strived to refine those metals into something far greater than the sum of their individual parts. Acoustic Alchemy is truly the fine wine of light instrumental music and with the release of their seventh album, The New Edge, I must say they have aged nicely.   I was first introduced to Acoustic Alchemy as a young promotions intern at MCA Records back in 1987 when Red Dust and Spanish Lace emerged on the company's forward-looking Master Series label. The English duo won my affection instantly as those energetic melodies and glossy hooks infiltrated my brain time and again. It is no accident that when the "wave" radio format was launched that same year, Acoustic Alchemy became a defining staple of that format. Here we are, seven very successful albums later (and a long time since a few lucky travelers knew Acoustic Alchemy as the in-flight entertainment on Virgin Airlines), and it is gratifying to know that I am not alone in lauding Acoustic Alchemy as one of the most penatrating light instrumental groups making music today. Stretching from the flamenco-folk and Spanish-classical fret work we have grown to expect, to fronting a large orchestra, The New Edge is a solid continuation of the groups rich musical legacy. Underscored by their signature sound of nylon-stringed and steel-stringed guitars, Nick Webb and Greg Carmichael take us once again on a journey through the latticework of masterful melodies with detours through some mindfully adventurous solos. While it is evident that Greg and Nick continue to explore various musical influences, the translation remains the same: a kind of lyricless story that has become Acoustic Alchemy's trademark. "On the road," comments Nick, "people often ask about the meaning of a certain track or title, who or what the inspiration behind a piece of our music. Sometimes we can explain and sometimes we just don't know ourselves. Instrumental music can be a nebulous medium, without a lyric to define it the listener can make the music mean almost anything he or she wants -- I Know, I do it all the time."