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.