It's a rich portrait, full of unexpected imagery and odd turns of phrase, which means that even though Welch has sung about drunks and prodigals so many times in the past, the songs on The Harrow & The Harvest sound both pleasingly familiar and starkly new, as if her unique vision of Americana contains an inexhaustible cast of eccentrics and an unending narrative from which she can harvest the most harrowing arcs.

Everything connects emotionally and musically in front of an enthusiastic crowd on one of the year's best and most vibrant live albums.

The 74-year-old King looks and sounds great. ... This is a lively celebratory concert, enhanced with historic photos flashed on a backing screen, by a legendary artist who takes, and clearly deserves, her victory lap.

It’s a lot to delve into. As much a scholarly treatise as serious source material, the relit Flaming Pie is finally served up with the stature it deserves.

According to Paul Simon, his new album So Beautiful Or So What is the best work he has done in decades. That's a bold proclamation. Even more startling: it's not hyperbole.

All in all, it’s a record that’s flush with reassurance and decidedly sedate circumstance.

This is a powerful, insistent collection of generally unknown artists laying down a murky groove that few contemporary artists get right.

The accompanying live DVD, recorded at Shoreline Amphitheatre in 1992, is a good-enough bonus, rather than a must-have live document. These are minor quibbles of course; a whole stack of tacky badges couldn’t stand in the way of Your Arsenal being absolutely essential.

With Treasure of Love, The Flatlanders’ reverence for their roots stays true to its title.

The combination of Burnette’s characteristically genuine, acoustic based production, Giddens’ sumptuous voice and a conceptual set list that never feels musty, yields a wonderful album whose restrained pleasures reveal themselves gradually over repeated playings.

As always, Crowell is in prime form, and the ten songs that make up the set list hold to the high standard he’s known for.

The concepts may be well worn and bordering on cliché, but the execution is generally fresh and inspired, proving that writing what you know never goes out of style.

Tweedy might be missing his band members, but the restless, resonant spirit that drives Wilco’s best records seeps winningly into WARM just the same.

The combination of Buddy’s husky rumble and Julie’s lighter but still incisive approach makes for an explosive vocal blend. There is no filler in these dozen tunes (over 50 were written, from which they chose the best) that remind us what we’ve missed in the decade since the couple last recorded together. It’s a continuation of a musical and personal partnership that’s entrancing, honest and one that makes for a mesmerizing listen.

This album demands the full attention of the listener, an old-school concept; those that put the most into it will get the most out of it. Dig in. It’s worth the effort.

Citizen Kane Jr. Blues finds Young back in a solo setting, and while some of the performances initially seem rather tentative, he comes through with unfailing effort and determination.

He zips past previous genre assumptions, ripping up any blueprint for how a blues album should sound on this daring and audacious release.

Womack and husband/producer Frank Liddell have collected 13 terrific songs that not only stand on their own, but reflect an older, more mature look at life when taken as an album.

The remastered audio captures each instrument with surprisingly sharp and clean separation which makes this sound better than what an exhausted, rain-soaked, mud covered audience experienced hearing it live.

There aren’t any catchy melodies, the song structures are loose, often amorphous with a stream of consciousness flow, and the muted ambiance of the 32 minute, live in the studio set isn’t for everyone. ... Lindeman and her band play music as if no one is around and the tapes aren’t running. That’s a difficult task, but one this album accomplishes with class and style and an honest intimacy impossible to dismiss.

By turns both heartbreaking and heroic, it boasts the signature sound of an artist whose music has always been soothing, seductive and immediately engaging. In this case, quality is matched by quantity, given the fact that the album boasts some 18 tracks (plus an added demo), each as winsome and wistful as the next.

The title says it all, giving an impression of wistful repose and a genuinely soothing serenity that’s become Villagers’ signature style. These Fever Dreams are well worth holding on to.

Where A Celebration of Endings excels most is not solely in its compiling of various sobering narratives with catchy or satisfyingly progressive songwriting.

While Mould’s never been a wallflower when it comes to expressing his aggression and rage, Blue Hearts — perhaps more than any of his other individual outings — recalls the fury of Hüsker Dü in both its intensity and aggression.

Progress may not be the right word for what The National achieves with Trouble Will Find Me, but sustained brilliance is a pretty good alternative.

As both a comeback and perhaps a farewell to recording, with Full Circle Lynn continues with the style, talent and class that have personified her lengthy, legendary career.

The production is clean and not overly slick but the memorable hooks with sweet harmonies come fast and often, resulting in a relatively subtle set that at just 30 minutes leaves you wanting more.

The backstory leading to Sorry is Gone may not be the type you’d wish on anyone, but in the hands of Jessica Lea Mayfield, it has resulted in compelling art.

Her eighth studio release flows with remarkable continuity. Notwithstanding the melancholy circumstances, Moorer is rocking out forcefully on chugging, swampy gems.

Consider Shadow Kingdom another opportunity to seize on a fabled legacy while reminding the world yet again that certain songs never go out of style.

Western Stars is erratic in the first half, as Springsteen’s need for exposition sometimes grinds uneasily against the sweep of the music. But the second half is a profound pleasure. ... It makes you wish that Springsteen could dash off an album full of such country songs. Until then, Western Stars will have to do, and it does just fine.

The only thing that the Immersion Edition is really missing is any extensive liner notes.

Last Man Standing isn’t just a terrific album made by a living legend with nothing left to prove; it’s one of the most joyous, insightful and understated sets from Willie Nelson, a guy who acts like his best years are still ahead and refuses to slow down now.

Not surprisingly, these songs float rather than soar as hints of organ, piano, and synthesizer augment the sparse sound without jarring the listener, lulled into Pratt’s ever so elusive world.

For those prepared to hunker down and get immersed in Angel Olsen’s laconic, often downbeat echoes on depressing life events many of us have experienced, it’s a startlingly uncompromising, if occasionally uncomfortable peek into her haunted dreams.

How much appeals to you will depend on your tastes, but it’s clear that all of the contributing musicians did this as a labor of love, something obvious from the honesty and quality of the performances.

On Eleven Eleven, Dave Alvin continues his transformation from journeyman musician to becoming one of the people he always idolized: the one of a kind bluesmen and storytellers, rock and rollers and poets, folk singers and road warriors whose influences he's absorbed since he was a kid growing up fast in Downey, California.

While the album is too long by at least four songs (Johnson has never been the best editor of his own material), he and his crew do well by Cochran.

Sparkle Hard comfortably fits in alongside any of the other entries in his oeuvre, but it also feels like a more mature release. He’s mostly let go of the overt references to The Fall and Dadaist poetry that defined Pavement’s early material. Instead, he delivers the prettiest album of his recent career, one that still rocks but does so in a relaxed, contemplative manner.

The fact that all the songs segue seamlessly together adds to the intrigue, while at the same time reducing the entire album to a series of hazy soundscapes that mostly come across as a bit of a blur.

There is really not much to separate this from the late-period, post-millennial albums that Cohen started churning out to ease financial issues, and those records maintained an imposingly high standard.

Plant continues down his remarkably innovative path on the combustible Carry Fire, further expanding an already eclectic, forward-thinking solo career and creating an artistic, often edgy persona largely removed from past glories many younger fans may not even be familiar with.

Seven Psalms is certainly an intriguing album, but not necessarily one that will reflect the faith of his followers.

Her most diverse work yet, careening from the stark acoustic with sparse drums and bass opening “Grace” to the crashing, grinding grunge guitars of “Wheelbarrow,” the latter an electrifying performance closer to Nirvana than anything in the Americana genre Chambers calls home.

With For Free, David Crosby soars on his own satisfaction.

Roots folk doesn't get more organic than this.

The ten tracks, heavy on ballads that comprise a third of the selections, seemed if not languid, then at least lacking the band’s dangerous edge. A few of Soup’s tracks have become classics. ... “Scarlet” with Jimmy Page sitting in for Keith whips up a funky enough froth, “All the Rage” doesn’t generate a boil, and “Criss Cross” sounds like an adequate Stones cover band. The rest of the extras are hardly remarkable different mixes, demos and instrumental tracks, generally of interest to collectors.

It’s the start of a somewhat short but compelling 10-track, 41-minute ride that rocks hard while remaining firmly in country/roots territory.

The fact that there isn’t much variety in the approach is somewhat forgivable at the shorter EP length. boygenius may be a one-off, but there is great potential there for more should they abide, what with their top-notch songwriting and three voices that coexist much more smoothly than the couples depicted in their songs.

It’s time to start thinking of Vampire Weekend not as upstarts but as one of the world’s best bands, because they’ve delivered a trio of great albums in an era when diminished expectations leave most listeners grateful for one.

It's meat-and-potatoes blues-rock topped with something sweeter, and it's the most consistent thing these guys have ever cooked up.

In its strongest moments--though there are no real weak moments to speak of--Dream River presents a compelling, gorgeous sonic world in which to get blissfully lost.

LaVette is clearly in her element throughout, delivering Bramblett’s words with as much emotion as anyone could squeeze out of them. Producer Jordan supports her with a band of pros that never upstages the star. Call it a win-win for the writer and singer, spotlighting the talents of both, with this thrilling, often electrifying work.

One of the most searing, potent and passionate albums you’ll hear this year.

This is more than just a stroll down memory lane since the emotions and lost love laments remain timeless, as does the sound of a man who understands his musical strengths and plays to them with class, authority and soul searching intensity.

Suffice it to say that unless you simply need to own everything Janis touched, this package is of negligible value. Newcomers will be better served by the 2005 edition with its powerful concert material showing how Joplin and the scrappy Full Tilt reinterpreted her earlier work.

There seems to be a slightly less edgy approach to these ten tracks, some of which could have used a dose of the hyper-caffeinated style TDM3 whip up in front of an audience.

His calm, ageless voice is perfect for this material and it’s clear he’s in his element on 13 songs that capture and condense the essence of his Americana blues, soul and country influences.

With Leave No Bridge Unburned, they successfully magnify an already impressively established sound and create one of the best and most exciting Americana albums of the year.

Clearly this is a heartfelt, meticulously crafted package for a cult artist who deserves far more acclaim and respect from a wider audience. As a single disc, non-boxed set re-release, it’s everything this classic deserves and a beautifully realized example of how reissues should be done.

He beefs things and takes a full-band approach on Big Bad Luv, which contains almost as many hooks as it does Moreland’s hard-earned kernels of truth.

While this may appear preachy, Mule’s tough, riff-driven attack along with Haynes’ raw, flinty vocals and the synergistic nature of the quartet, which functions as a well-lubed outfit honed through years of live work, keep you focused on the music.

Cray has been criticized--rightfully at times--for repeating his distinctive if somewhat staid style for many of his almost 20 studio albums. But this one pushes outside those boundaries. It plays to Cray’s established vocal and guitar strengths while injecting just enough grit and grease to spur him to new heights.

The music’s not raw enough to be considered outlaw but it’s melodic, sharply arranged and driven by passion. That balance makes the Turnpike Troubadours both one of Americana’s preeminent purveyors and this album arguably their most accomplished set to date.

Their music is unique and instantly identifiable, high praise indeed for brothers that have seemingly become tighter and more focused as their professional liaison has matured.

Overall this is, perhaps not surprisingly, a mixed bag with enough impressive, even stirring moments to make it a moderately recommended listen, albeit one that too seldom validates its intent of bringing homespun country grit to the John/Taupin songbook.

Shemekia Copeland might have been born into the blues, but the riveting America’s Child shows her continuing to push those boundaries, creating music reflecting a larger, wider-ranging tract of Americana.

This is another tasteful and tasty JJ Cale set, one that comfortably slots in with the rest of his similarly styled catalog. It’s like he never left.

It’s an album that both looks backward and forward, reprising the dusky feel of the music that first inspired the Dickinson brothers to start their band while pushing it into electric boogie and even psychedelic directions its founders might not have imagined.

The rawness of Holmes’ approach and the sheer down-home intensity of everything here may be too stark and unfiltered for most listeners. But thank Auerbach for capturing this most primal of blues music played with the loose, seemingly unrehearsed power and hypnotic force of what most will never experience unless they enter Holmes’ club on a sweaty Saturday night.

Arguably her finest, most explosive release.

To say the results probably exceeded anyone’s expectations is an understatement.

A heartfelt album that reflects Anderson’s optimism, gratitude, honesty and outlook in the aftermath of an experience that almost stole his gift of music out from under him.

Crockett is not aiming for edgy but neither is he slick, overly smooth or worse, commercially motivated. Even when the songs describe the titular hard times, his affable approach makes them go down easy and, like the best performers, leaves you wanting more.

Although certain songs on the new record offer her a catharsis of sorts —”When She Comes,” “Half Hanged Mary” and “Bones” being some of the more obvious examples — the album overall finds her exuding a decided clarity and confidence.

Pine Needle Fire slots flawlessly with his established catalog while adding a fresh, somewhat reflective approach; music that could only have been crafted by someone with the experience, class and integrity Bramblett brings to everything he touches.

Ultimately, Leftover Feelings doesn’t take either artist beyond their respective comfort zones. Yet, it is an outstanding album nevertheless, simply because it’s everything one would expect from a collaboration between the two. Above all, it succeeds in eliciting emotion, which is, by definition, the standard upon which most memorable music is judged. Given that measure, Leftover Feelings is both revealing and resilient indeed.

While this is far from anything that may land on commercial radio, there are just enough compositional moments on Burnside’s finest set to push it a little closer to widespread acceptance while maintaining the tough, raw foundation of the uncompromising music that came before. And… you can dance to it.

A superb set that ranks as one of his finest.

He could have jettisoned the closing “I Gotta Go,” a jazzy vamp where he chats about having to get off stage at the end of a gig. ... Don’t let that minor misstep dissuade you from supporting Gales as he continues to fine-tune his songs and muscular blues rocking on an exciting album that provides a taste of his combustible live show.

Paint This Town could be considered the group’s most emphatic effort yet, given its music and messaging. Simply put, it’s also their best to boot.

Perhaps a few more originals, or even covers, could have been wrestled with to bulk up the playing time. Nevertheless, what’s here is solid, uncluttered, unadulterated blues rocking, played by a trio who will never sell out.

This is soul music of the most raw and affecting type; naked but brimming with more feeling than the majority of today’s stars in the genre whose elaborate productions can’t touch Son Little’s cottage project for purity and emotional clarity.

All are already available on one of the many existing Hendrix live discs although as usual, the performances are substantially different since Hendrix seldom played anything the same way twice. ... One of the last recordings with the original threesome. Despite reported tensions within the group, they tear it up.

Price breaks down any barriers left around her on this record to great appeal. In just 10 songs, she manages to tell a lifetime of stories that are captivating from start to finish.

Few songs immediately jump out but when the album is over, you’ll want to hit the repeat button. That’s what any band hopes for and what The Nude Party delivers on the subtly irrepressible Rides On.

Ultimately, Orpheus Descending ranks as one of the most commanding and compelling albums of Mellencamp’s entire career.

For the most part however, Coyote is a stealth-like affair, filled with suspenseful circumstance. Likewise, it’s an impressive achievement that ought to bring LeBlanc the further recognition he so decidedly deserves.

Based on its variety and power, Strand Of Oaks’ Heal seems like that special kind of album that can serve as a temporary buffer for others just as the aforementioned artists did for Showalter.

While there are few moments that challenge the band’s finest work, let alone justify the extended wait for new music, The Tipping Point reaffirms TFF’s collaborative talents. They remain idiosyncratic and distinctive in a pop music landscape now enhanced by having this veteran duo back in action again.

[Frontman Kurt Wagner] doesn’t write these songs so much as he unwrites them, and the effect is vividly disorienting, sometimes--as on “NIV” and “Directions To The Can”--even perversely beautiful.

Live At The Cellar Door sounds like Neil Young with his head down playing to an exceedingly polite crowd.... But the real gems here are the pared down Everybody Knows tracks.

The unexpected is to be expected, and in that regard, Wagner and company don’t disappoint. The Bible may not be the last word as far as this band’s creativity is concerned, but as always, Lambchop’s music is worth heeding.

Even as her world expands, and her style shifts along with it, Brandy Clark keeps her feet grounded in the here and now. Her songwriting is only getting better.

Those who need a soundtrack for a rainy night alone can take comfort in the pure reflective intimacy of this alluring and frequently enchanting album.

While you may wish this newlywed was a little happier, this is a superb, emotionally poignant album that displays and expands Andrew Combs’ impressive songwriting, musical and vocal talents.

Harry’s House pleasantly surprised us—knocked us off our feet actually—with its synth-layered earworms.