It maintains an unblemished feel overall, one that stays true to Lund’s traditional template.

While REVAMPED is enticing enough as a filler project, it doesn’t hold up as a major release. Perhaps that wasn’t the point, but apart from a few powerful moments and some buzzy names, the album is a little lackluster.

This record is all over the map, showing how widespread Loretta Lynn's influence has been on the generations of performers who have followed her.

Most telling is how glad he is to be free of concept-Obscurities contains songs from five(!) different projects, all of them rescued from any context but musical, which is all the overwhelmed guy who made five projects in the first place wants to focus on in his old age.

There’s plenty of soul, sass and self-reflection as Hames works through these short, snappy tunes, where it’s impossible not to hear echoes of the Dusty Springfield and Bobbie Gentry influences that Hames mentions in the press notes.

Rare Birds is a strikingly original, complex and inspired work, one that requires your attention and rewards repeated spins.

With T Bone Burnett's production and Burnett's usual cast of top-notch players (including Sara Watkins on fiddle and vocals), Earle's got another winner. Grammy or not.

On fifth LP Gimme Some, the Swedish trio has stripped down their sound, and their brand of indie rock has never sounded fresher.

Those who liked One Quiet Night, especially those familiar with the pop material Metheny is recalling, should enjoy this record. But many non-jazz listeners will find this CD dreary and sleepy, and jazz purists probably won't like it a lot either.

A predominantly lush, lovely rendered debut that is never less than pleasant. Unfortunately, it’s seldom more than that either as these amiable tunes drift on a dreamy haze that threatens to slide into a memorable chorus or melody, but seldom does.

Buffalo Killers aren’t offering you anything you haven’t heard countless times before. Whether or not you want to pick up the phone to have that conversation again will be determined by how much you value novelty.

Even if the sound is perhaps slightly slicker than fans might expect, Redemption & Ruin is a wonderfully successful foray that solidifies and expands the band’s already impressive credentials around a concept that’s a natural extension from their existing catalog of originals.

Smiles may be hard to come by on We All Want The Same Things, but flat-out songwriting excellence is in plentiful supply.

Syd Arthur give themselves room to stretch out on Sound Mirror, with sonic textures thick and varied enough to enjoy getting lost in on repeat listens.

Science or not, Widespread Panic's eleventh offering shows that after all this time, they've got something figured out.

Neither has anything left to prove but the utter joy and comradery on display makes you hope this isn’t their final collaboration.

The set was recorded in four days with no overdubs and only a few takes for each track. That provides a fresh, revealing quality that weaves through the songs. Although each can stand alone, there is a tangible groove to the playlist capped by the concluding “Gloryland,” a traditional hymnal that closes this terrific effort on an appropriately sanctified note.

Another dozen perfectly crafted ringing nuggets that pick up where 1982's "Repercussion," the last album that featured the original lineup, left off.

Benson may jump at a Raconteurs reunion should it ever appear, but with a release as strong as You Were Right, he deserves to be playing mid-sized halls as a headliner in his own right.

While this collection isn't uniformly awe-inspiring, Hiatt has outdone himself on a couple of these tunes.

There is a tendency to scoff at the clichéd “back to his roots” concept of Cass County and you can’t help but wish some of the occasionally slick production was dialed down a notch. Regardless, it yields arguably Henley’s finest solo work and, at its best, music that stands with the Eagles’ finest country influenced moments.

Tailgates & Tanlines is, for the most part, exactly what the title implies: a soundtrack for fun and sun, along with an instantaneous cure for the summertime blues.

Though these songs cry out for DVD treatment, this audio-only collection is still an unparalleled document.

It’s a supple set of songs that’s as engaging as it is agreeable.

They've perfected the balance of gorgeous songwriting and rabid musicianship, so we can't wait to see what they do next.

Sun June defines its enigmatic, shadowy sonic borders but never pushes beyond them, which causes the disc to occasionally lapse into tedious uniformity as it progresses.

Buckingham knows his true strengths. Seeds We Sow waves goodbye, just as it began: with quiet meditation.

Not only is this a treat for longtime fans, but hopefully a sign for others to take Harper’s lead, creating relevant, incisive songs that are lyrically, musically and philosophically as inspirational and provocative as those here.

Dark Night mostly fits together as an accomplished piece of downbeat concept-rock. The mood can get--to quote Chesnutt's song--"grim," but the artfulness shines through.

Whatever category you might inhabit, Justin Townes Earle has something here you need to hear.

For an album that successfully manages to carry an understated beauty, and often comes across as a fragile work, Eternity Of Dimming almost does it all without doing near as much as others would attempt to.

As much as the veteran musician should be complimented for his work ethic, he can do better than the overall competent but unexciting Tomorrow’s Daughter.

Rev’s somewhat radical interpretation will alert Americana fans to Gentry’s unfairly neglected gem, now ready for a belated rediscovery.

A little sincerity goes a long way, and the lack of a lighter conceptual touch doesn’t do this set any favors. But the exquisite Okie is nonetheless filled with emotions he evidently needed to express, which makes it an important entry in his bulging catalog and arguably his most intimate, deeply felt release.

Hawthorne mines polyester grooves, crackly sample beds and rich, analog production for his vintage soul sound, and it’s a wonderfully sumptuous thing.

The tunes here aren’t necessarily in a class with some of the material Bonamassa has recorded in past years, songs by blues giants like Willie Dixon or writers like John Hiatt and Tom Waits. But they suit the artist perfectly.

From The Black Dirt Sessions we get the sense that being painfully serious is more important than making stylistic progress.

At 10 tracks clocking in at about 35 minutes, it leaves you wanting more .

Charmer is at its finest during the most subdued, quietly detailed stretches, which veer closer to what we've heard from Mann on past efforts.

There is lots to enjoy here as long as you keep your expectations in check and aren’t looking for a rollicking new Heartbreakers release.

Sometimes, as on “Shroud,” the introspective songwriting isn’t strong enough to sustain the bold attack and the seriousness can feel confining.

Crow returns to basics, crafting sharp sing-along pop-rock that defined some of her more memorable hits with a small but talented combo.

Tiger Suit wears a different skin than her previous recordings, and the highs and lows are obvious.

Regions Of Light is about surrendering yourself to the wonder of the unknown: Often on this adventurous and deeply heartfelt album, it’s unclear whether James is singing to a lover or to God, and that seems to be the point.

Even though a handful of tunes seem forced, for the most part, Rateliff’s material and the brassy, bossy attack work well enough together to suggest this was a savvy career move, both artistically and commercially. Next time, if the songs mesh better with the arrangements, he might have a classic on his hands.

As befits his sideman status, McLagan is neither a particularly riveting vocalist nor songwriter--some of his lyrics are rudimentary bordering on simplistic--but he makes the most of his limitations by sheer heartfelt resolve.

Ultimately, it takes a real curmudgeon to dislike this often enchanting, rosy-cheeked, harmony laden alliance, even if you wish it was better. It also does little to display the vocal talents of Kelly Jones who has a handful of terrific albums under her own name but whose own style gets lost here.

Since White has the more recognizable name, and also produced the project, Take it Like a Man bears more of his absurdist influence, which is a good thing.

Filthy Friends invites you to their party that pounds out a rugged, lived-in and honest rocking sound, delivered by a bunch of rock and roll lifers with nothing to prove who are clearly in this for the camaraderie and the music.

It’s impossible to not get caught up in the sheer joy exuded by Morrison and company as he cranks out yet another winner in a bulging catalog filled with them.

Benson writes about life’s ups and downs. But musically this short (just over 30 minutes) yet taut collection delivers all the power pop goods you’ll need.

Contradictory emotions push against each other in each line and verse, pulling the listener between envy and pity for the characters that inhabit each song, and often with envy/pity switching sides on each additional listen.

Ultimately, this record shows what can go really right when artists push the boundaries. Times New Viking purists fear not, though, the grit's still there and the edges are still rough; they've just dusted off the surface so you can see a bit more of the shine that's been there all along.

This is far from conventional rock, but it's rock as viewed through Cale's dark shades and skewed outsider sensibility and as such, one of his more successful and consistent outings.

High Road is fun, frilly, and fanciful – and Kesha has more than earned this moment. It suits her.

It’s the sound of a knowing band reveling in what it does best. B-Room, which combines the scrappiness of the band’s earliest records with a matured sense of songcraft, is sure to please longtime Dr. Dog fans.

Though nothing here (not even the one cover, Dutch band Mint's "Ah, You Left Me") wanders far from the work he has done with Cracker or Camper, this intimate album is a welcome addition to the Lowery catalog.

Fame, fortune and influence haven’t dulled their initial impulses, something made clear on the hypnotic unvarnished vibe created throughout the superb Dropout Boogie.

Surprisingly the results are pretty great and even if they won’t make you forget the often charmingly dated originals.

Everything on the appropriately titled Romantic Images goes down smooth with any edges polished to a fine sheen. Those familiar with the music of Tennis will naturally gravitate to this collaboration.

Dylan's talent for matching, smart plentiful (arguably too much so) words to chiming melodies supported by a solid, unpretentious rock band and sung with conviction has returned.

Ultimately, completists may debate the worth of this particular anniversary offering, due not only to the aforementioned repetition but also because of the definitive live Band recordings that accompanied the recent re-releases of The Band and Stage Fright. That said, a half-century anniversary makes any Band album well worth revisiting.

All in all, Greenfields is an admirable effort, and hearing these songs again, even in an altered context, serves their memory well. Any gift from the Gibbs, past or present, is still well worth cherishing.

The Body Wins stands as something of a transitional work for Jaffe, but it's an impressive album for wherever her musical journey takes her.

Give Mayer credit for keeping his languid country pop organic and as rootsy as someone with his honeyed voice can sound. Yet that only reveals the mediocre quality of the bulk of this material and is no excuse for his sleepwalking performance of it.

Kudos to Cameron for shoring up his strength and providing us with such a bold venture.

Some of the slick production, that drowned the last album for many, remains. Yet Daylight goes a long way to reassuring the roots/jam based audience Potter initially cultivated, that her time trying to be the next Taylor Swift is over.

Rose found a musical soulmate in Malo to help realize that sound in the studio. But even though he has helmed and guided her, this is her singular vision. And with two terrific worldwide releases to her name, she’s just getting started.

If there’s anything keeping Dying Star from being an outright classic, it’s that Kelly can so effortlessly conjure up the regretful young man’s blues that the nearly hour-long album can coast at times. But for the most part, Dying Star is a triumph.

A dozen effusive offerings that show off both their talent and tenacity. The tones and tempos vary from song to song, but nearly all provide an upbeat delivery that grabs the listener straight out of the gate with nothing less than an instant impression.

Born and Raised a prime example of the John Mayer paradox--it's good enough to satisfy even his most casual fans, but the old-school Mayerisms that remain will only anger his detractors.

LaFarge’s slight country drawl and understated twang nails the ’20s period the music evokes, and the effort is even more rewarding than Diana Krall’s recent endeavor in the same genre.

Ke$ha didn't really set the bar for intellectual heft too high on her debut, Animal, so it seems like hair-splitting to mention that even with guilty pleasures like "Cannibal" and, uh, "C U Next Tuesday," Cannibal seems to be skimping on the cleverness.

There's plenty more on Tao of the Dead that works. After years out in the cold as music critic whipping posts, this should go a long way toward reclaiming some lost luster for Trail of Dead.

The album does a wonderful job of creating and sustaining its mood. People looking for something a little bit more flashy or bold-faced from their music should probably look elsewhere.

Some may prefer an even more stripped down approach but these tunes benefit from a bit of polish which also helps distinguish Williams from her family’s gruffer music.

Regardless of Mixtape Vol. 1’s origins, it’s a fun, dynamic set. Let’s hope this is just the beginning of a series of likeminded follow-ups.

Hunt is at his most exciting when he fuses the past and the present (“Let It Down” truly shines bright) into ambitious creations that hint at even greater promise ─ but his second offering is largely a mixed bag.

At just over 30 minutes, it’s over pretty quickly so let’s hope this is just the beginning of a fruitful musical relationship.

At a conservative 35 minutes, there’s little fluff. Still, some songs feel longer than they are and the sheer abundance of words is sporadically exaggerated and tiresome.

God Willin', while a pretty record and certainly head and shoulders above so much of what has been released this year, it is nearly completely bereft of the emotion that we've come to expect from LaMontagne.

In the end, though, whether you're a Bennett fan or a follower of one of his duet partners, this album is nothing extraordinary, and it will be a rare listener who gives this disc more than a couple curious spins before turning to something from the Bennett catalog of yesteryear.

These 12 songs are as simple as it gets--just two musicians harmonizing and plucking away, making up in soul and pure joy what they lack in overstuffed arrangements.

The remastered sound for this spiffed up reboot is a big improvement over the previous one. The extras on the various editions, especially the Wings Over the World doc with fan interviews, backstage shenanigans and offstage prep for the shows, help bring the 1976 experience to life for a new generation, shameless nostalgia and all.

Ledges may not match the intensity of his stage performances, but the album does portray Gundersen as an exacting songwriter who never lets self-reckoning curdle into self-regard and as an imaginative producer with a careful hand.

The high bar he has set with a tremendous back catalog makes us yearn for just a bit more out of Mutineers.

Unlike other such projects that prop up ageing rockers with a surplus of headliners respectfully going through the motions, Lewis is totally in control as he cranks out these tunes with a fire and intensity that doesn’t seem to have dimmed despite his six decade career.

Hubbard has always been a lyricist of gritty honesty. Here though, with help from an infusion of blues, his music is equally as taut, dynamic and compelling.

While Luck or Magic isn’t a major transformation for Britta Phillips, it’s never less than an enjoyable listen. It also reaffirms her substantial if low key vocals and displays a vision as essential to the Dean & Britta albums as her higher profile husband.

For anyone who feels similarly disenchanted about country music, Outlaw’s songs--closely bound to tradition, endlessly romantic--are the perfect remedy.

Since their music so effortlessly recalls the best of Jackson Browne, consider We’re All Gonna Die to be Dawes’ version of Browne’s 80’s curve ball Lawyers In Love, a stylistic detour with high points that outweigh the misfires.

It’s a swaggering, easy-to-digest introduction to an artist whose combination of committed vocals, sharp song construction and offbeat, often dark-edged concepts is as creative and snarky as the inspired tongue-in-cheek title of this impressive debut.

The album is somewhat of a musical and philosophical rollercoaster. But that’s all in a day’s work for Everett who adds to his already impressive, uncompromising catalog with another expressive, rugged and diverse gem.

If Things Change has any fault, it’s that the North Carolina singer-songwriter doesn’t cover too much new ground. But for the most part, it’s an engaging latest chapter in the ever-evolving, consistently compelling storytelling saga of one of this generation’s most overlooked roots country singer-songwriters.

There are plenty of bands trying to capture this distressing atmosphere of dread, uncertainty and slowly enveloping darkness, but few do it with the class, subtlety and controlled intensity of All Them Witches. Five albums in, they are confident in their abilities and seem poised for a remarkable future.

Multiple spins help define some of the melodies. Jackson’s voice is never less than distinctive and often riveting. At times this is a challenging listen because the personal revelations feel so intimate and private. But she locks into a rootsy groove that makes even the darkest concepts connect on an album that’s as honest, revealing and authentic as they come.

He makes each of these tracks reverberate with the best aspects of the Americana genre that has clearly influenced him, while carving out his own space in it.

Campbell seems reluctant to imbue a significant imprint of his own. It leaves little that hasn’t been rehashed dozens of times before. That makes Wreckless Abandon nowhere neither as daring or distinctive as its title otherwise implies.