Jason Michael Carrol - Waitin' In The Country

Jason Michael Carroll doesn't look like he sounds, and that oxymoron serves the 20-something North Carolinian. With a deep baritone that's as country as a red dirt road, the traditional sounding singer resembles more a mall kid swagged out in OP, Abercrombie or Hot Topix - and that somewhat disorienting merger offers a future beyond the obvious fans of the genre.

For if country music is about identification, Carroll is the embodiment of modern youth, yet his song choices harken back to Randy Travis, Joe Diffie, early Steve Wariner, Alabama and perhaps even a bit of Gary Morris' less operatic singles. Suddenly, that which defined the genre in the mid-to-late 80s is suddenly relevant by virtue of the chasmic vocalist's sheer physicality.

And Carroll doesn't aspire to lofty musical goals. This is split rail stuff suitable for ranch houses, basic pick-ups and 40 hour + overtime lifestyles: “I Can Sleep When I'm Dead” and the title track are sheer Saturday night good-time stuff, while “Livin' Our Love Song” casts a true connection's ability to persevere over time, fate and circumstances in expansive terms that apply to anyone merely trying to survive the grind.

Southern Culture on the Skids - Countrypolitan Favorites

They are everything Music Row has come to hate: wild-eyed, high-haired, strummy-guitars, too-much-stink'n'reverb. Southern Culture on the Skids has no trouble with white trash excess, reveling in the baseness of it all or unbridling polite notions in the name of rockin' the roll - and on Countrypolitan Favorites, the breakneck little trio, heads to the root and blows things up bigtime.

Leaning into true AM radio back when classics - Lynn Anderson's “Rose Garden” short circuits in bolts of quavering electric guitar and a rode-hard backbeat, while “Oh Lonesome Me” is sloppier, quicker and more forlorn than even those reckless Kentucky Headhunters at a time when mainstream radio was a bit more reckless itself.

Jimmy Buffett - Take The Weather With You
By Holly Gleason

Long before Jimmy Buffett became a franchise for cheeseburgers in paradise and the intersection of tequila, ice and blender, he was a pretty marvelous populist poet of the palms'n'sea salt set. Slightly faded characters setting on barstools, comparing scars and stories, loves and losses, thrills and the will to keep drinking…

But when you become the flag in the beachhead of good-time-revelry and a license for the cubicle bound'n'corner office crowd to act the fool, then the trap becomes the music serving the show, the crowd, the illusion served up as reality. Gone in the blink of a salt shaker is the elegance of “He Went To Paris,” the joie de vie of “Pencil Thin Mustache,” the bawdy reality of hooker-meets-businessman on a slow afternoon “Why Don't We Get Drunk (and Screw)” or the aging beauty of life lived fuller and more intensely through the exhaustion of “Wonder Why We Ever Go Home” in favor of the clipped and cleverness of the staccato reggaetacularality of “Volcano,” the tempest-tempoed “Fins,” the 24/7 happy hour motif of “5 O'Clock Somewhere” and the always chuggable “Margaritaville,” a perfectly good song gone cliché by far too many consonant optional quaff-along performances.

At 50-something, what's a pirate who's not just looked at, but conquered 40, to do? On Take The Weather With You, it appears grapple with both the best - and most obviously compromising - of what was. Because Jimmy Buffett knows the difference, makes his choices based on - what seems to be - what mass markets want rather than what the ones who thrive on his gift for emotionally nuanced story-telling, rich with overlooked elements and polaroids of moments had come looking - mostly in vain - for.

A courtly writer - somewhere between Hemingway's rugged man against nature and Patrick Conroy's deeply-feeling, detail-driven narratives, Buffett comes by his bottomless taste honestly. Here he enlists only the best for his latest adventure: Mark Knopfler (“Whoop De Doo”), Crowded House's Tim and Neil Finn (the title track), Mary Gauthier (“Wheel Inside The Wheel”), Guy Clark (“Cinco de Mayo in Memphis”), Gillian Welch and Dave Rawlings (“Elvis Presley Blues”). Jesse Winchester (“Nothin; But A Breeze”) and Merle Haggard (“Silver Wings”) provide the grist for greatness.

Each song's plucked for an specific angle and facet on the themes of exuberance and escape or yearning and return. They capture conviviality with a spirit that's in sync with Buffett's own kaleidoscopic filter of life, yet the songs also temper that with the seriousness that settles upon dreamers when the party leaves, and at times leads them to their own ponderous places.

“Bama Breeze,” with its dominant acoustic guitar notes which harkens back to fern bars and beers joints anywhere, reflects what Buffett does best: looking over his shoulder to more innocent times, when people were young and carefree -- and things just seem to make more sense. It's a portrait of every hole in the wall dive each one of us has up their sleeve as a private down-low refuge. It is gritty. It is real. Mick Jagger knew it, when he signed his name on the ladies room wall… the bouncer knows it, knowing a few underage pretty girls never hurt anybody, but sure can improve the mood… and the well at a place like the Bama Breeze never ever runs dry.

Alan Jackson - Like Red On A Rose
By Holly Gleason

In some ways, barely-spoken Alan Jackson seems an odd heir to Hank Williams Sr's wild-eyed, yet austere traditional country mantle. He's a family man, seemingly disinterested in bright lights, cigarette smoke and the vices being plied beyond the bandstand - and yet, the Newnan, Georgian has silently shouldered hard lives lived at the margins with both a wink (“Chattahoochie,” “I'm In Love with a Waitress (& I Don't Even Know Her Name),””Don't Rock The Jukebox,” “Where I Come From”) and a stoic dignity (“Here In The Real World,” “Llittle Man,” “Drive (For Daddy Gene)” and “Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning”) that makes simplicity the most elegant thing conceivable.

More than halfway into his second decade of setting the bar of what classic country can be, where does one go for inspiration? For growth? For faith in a process that can easily erode into Xeroxing one's own records? For the man who genuflected at “Midnight In Montgomery,” the answer arrived by looking to an inspiration of his own: bluegrass songstress Allison Krauss, whose angelic take on the falterings of humanity have captivated with an even more organic approach to making music.

Though a bluegrass project with a red dirt twang would be obvious, Krauss sought to exhume Jackson's hidden strengths - pulling out a more soul-tinged delivery and a more pensive way of embracing the lyrics. like red from a rose is an adult record, absolutely; measured songs that weigh the costs and realizations of what time exacts as it deposits experience, emotions and memories in its wake.

Evoking “House of the Rising Sun,” the terse “Good Imitation of the Blues” is a tightrope of good-bye and gone from a man who's had enough. It's a low-down moan that slides into the verses, as a funky Stevie Wonder-esque keyboard percolates up through the descending guitar parts. This is grown-up music, unsentimentally tendered - and in that dry-eyed recognition, a whole new kind of strength, which is echoed by the electric guitar solos burning what can't quite be said, emerges.

Ralph Stanley "A Distant Land to Roam" (Columbia/DMZ)

Though Ralph Stanley made his name as a purveyor of bluegrass, his earliest influences - the music that he and his brother Carter grew up with - was the songbook of fellow Virginians, The Carter Family. Stanley's musical legacy (both with his brother and solo) followed many of the conventions laid down by Bill Monroe, but the forlorn and mournful tone of his singing has always been rooted in the Southern songs of tragedy and deliverance collected by A.P. Carter. With this latest release, Stanley revisits the depression-era songs of his childhood, bringing the wisdom of his years (and the breathtaking burnish of his aging voice) to bear on the emotional foundations of his youth.

Backed by his own Clinch Mountain Boys (augmented by Mike Seeger on autoharp), this is a backporch folk album, without the speedy tempos and intricate picking of the group's bluegrass work. The song selection mixes familiar Carter songs like "Worried Man Blues" and "I'm Thinking Tonight of My Blue Eyes" with less well-known entries that span the pain, longing, and ultimate faith that have sustained the Carter Family catalog for over a half-century. At 79, and with a lengthy career that's brought international fame, Carter serves easily as a living link back to the hard-scrabble lives from which these songs sprang, and the family of artists that originally brought them to fame.

Jim Reeves "Essential" (RCA/Legacy)

Reeves was a consistent presence in the country charts throughout the late 50s and early 60s, landing single after single in the upper reaches of the country charts, and often finding crossover success in the pop world. So unquenchable was the public's thirst for his work that even his untimely death in a 1964 plane crash couldn't quell his commercial success; his posthumous releases continued to land at the top of the country chart throughout the rest of the '60s, and albums that mixed these hits with previously released material continued to sell briskly.

Reeves' earliest successes, recorded for Fabor Robison's Abbott label, hardly predicted the soft Nashville Sound he'd spearhead just a few years later. 1953's "Mexican Joe" and "Bimbo," are chock full of twang, and though the playful lyrics are more Arthur Godfrey than Hank Williams, the barrelhouse piano, fiddle and steel are miles from the pop-influenced material Reeves would record at RCA. It was that 1955 transition, moving from Abbott to RCA (and not coincidentally moving from the Louisiana Hayride to the Grand Ol' Opry) that gave Reeves his new sound.

Bruce Molsky "Soon Be Time" (Compass)

Having traveled in old-time music circles since the mid-70s, Molsky is well-known for both his playing (fiddle, banjo and guitar) and his ability to bridge traditional material into modern times. This sixth solo album, his first for Compass, follows the formula of his earlier releases, mixing banjo, fiddle and guitar-led tunes with a few vocal turns. His voice is the least polished of his instruments, but its everydayness proves a valuable link to the backporch tradition of his early-America Appalachian sources. Molsky's song-by-song annotations provide insight into the many and varied paths these traditional songs take as they're learned and passed along. His playing is precise yet organic, with his guitar perhaps the most compelling of all. This is a thoughtful recording that's educational without being academic. [©2006 redtunictroll at hotmail dot com]

The Derailers “Retrospective” (Varese Vintage)

The Bakersfield twang of the Austin-based Derailers was just as refreshing in the mid-90s as had been Buck Owens'' original run through the 1960s. Much like Owens and his Buckaroos, the Derailers wore their Fender guitars proudly, and though plenty comfortable with a straight country waltz, they didn''t hesitate to turn up their amps or add a rock ''n'' roll beat to their honky-tonk dance tunes. The band''s hook-filled originals were perfectly realized by Tony Villanueva''s husky Texas-accented vocals and Brian Hofeldt''s twangy lead guitar. Varese''s 17-track retrospective is a great starting point for those who didn''t latch onto the Derailers the first time around.

Villaneuva and Hofeldt''s interplay was mapped out on their studio debut, "Jackpot," with the Buck-and-Don styled "My Heart''s Ready" and the riff-filled "100% Pure Fool." The songs combine open-hearted idealism and self-deprecating sorrow in much the same manner as Owens'' mid-60s classics, and the balance of vocals, lead guitar and pedal steel is superb. Dave Alvin''s production leaves the band''s basic stage sound unaltered, but he wisely had them slow the tempo of a few songs for the studio.

Alvin stayed in the producer''s seat for the band''s next pair of releases, "Reverb Deluxe" and "Full Western Dress." Distributed by Sire, part of the major label Warner group, the band retained its twangy Bakersfield edge, but with more pronounced rock ''n'' roll verve on songs like "California Angel." The ballad "Can''t Stop a Train" deftly interweaves Villaneuva and Hofeldt with the hypnotic train rhythm of drummer Terry Kirkendall and layers of acoustic guitars. The Derailers only charting single, "The Right Place," has a Southern dance beat that recalls Doug Sahm, and a cover of The Crystals "Then He Kissed Me" (retitled "Then She Kissed Me") sounds like Gary Lewis gone country.

In 2001 the group joined the roster of Sony''s Lucky Dog imprint. Lucky Dog was an experiment in cross-pollinating country artists on the periphery of commercial music with producers who sat at the center. The Derailers were paired with producer Kyle Lehning (who''d worked with Bryan White, Neal McCoy, and Randy Travis), and the result was a mixed bag. The Lucky Dog albums were more Country than Nashville, but also more Nashville than Austin. Lehning''s polish and the addition of studio musicians both helps and hinders the core four-piece. Varese''s compilation skips 2001''s "Here Come the Derailers" entirely, and samples only two tracks from 2003''s "Genuine." The title track from the latter is a good example of Lehning''s overproduction, with a big drum sound and overblown vocal harmonies.

Rounding out this set is a quartet of live recordings that were originally issued in 1995 as the band''s first public release. All four tracks show just how potent the Derailers were as a stage act, and how easily Villaneuva and Hofeldt sang together. The selection of covers (Cindy Walker''s "I Go Anywhere," Harlan Howard''s "I''ll Catch You if You Fall," and Wynn Stewart''s "Wishful Thinkin''") gives a good sense of where this band came from, and a hopped-up version of their original "Just One More Time" features a terrific Beatles-styled country guitar solo.

The generous 17-cut track-list provides a good overview of the band''s wares, but the lack of chronological order leaves listeners to sort out the artistic arc. The collection opens in the middle of the band''s career, moves to the Lucky Dog tracks before rewinding to the Bakersfield Sound beginnings; he live tracks and the cuts from "Jackpot" are buried in the middle and end of the disc. The evolution of the band''s work is more easily heard by programming the tracks 11, 12, 13, 17, 5, 6, 7, 8, 14, 15, 16, 1, 9, 2, 10, 3, 4.

The song selections from the first three studio albums are a good representation, though the inclusion of seven cuts from "Jackpot" (admittedly, their best LP) ends up short-changing the later albums. The two Lucky Dog tracks fail to fully essay the halfway-from-Austin-to-Nashville sound that the Derailers successfully achieved with Lehning. The commercial balance may have been too slick for the indie crowd and too retro for country radio, but it was a noble experiment that yielded better results than are heard here. The omission of anything from "Here Come the Derailers" is a shame, as it contained some excellent material.

In the end, microscopic criticisms of the song selection is a matter for those who already own all the individual albums, and thus mostly beside the point. Varese''s created a fine introduction to a band that any fan of twangy Bakersfield-styled country should have in their collection. Reprogram the track list closer to chronological order, and get ready to chase down the band''s individual albums after you hear the highlights. [2006 redtunictroll at hotmail dot com]

Tish Hinojosa "Retrospective" (Varese Sarabande)

The topography of Hinojosa's personal travels is neatly reflected in her artistic associations, making this multi-label collection both a geographic and professional travelogue. Born in San Antonio, Hinojosa developed a musical language that was equally influenced by the surrounding Texas hill country's music as by the sounds of her parent's native Mexico. Her relocations to Taos (where she worked with Michael Martin Murphey), Nashville and back to Taos resulted in the independently released 1988 debut, "Taos to Tennessee," and reissued commercially by Watermelon in 1992. Its songs are graceful and filled with the folk romance of the West; the easiness with which she moved from English to Spanish, covering both in her version of Irving Berlin's "Always," was an early sign of her career's individual melting pot of influences.

A one-album stint with A&M resulted in 1989's "Homeland," unfortunately not sampled here. Her association with Rounder began the following year with the critically lauded "Culture Swing," represented here by one of the album's country-styled tracks, "Drifter's Wind," on which Hinojosa's high voice sounds a bit like Rosie Flores. She'd continue to travel back and forth between labels and styles, dropping the Spanish live recording "Aquella Noche" and English/Spanish Christmas album "Memorabilia Navidena" for Watermelon, the more mainstream "Destiny's Gate and "Dreaming From the Labyrinth" for Warner Brothers, and several special projects for Rounder. Hinojosa's latest for Rounder, 2000's "Sign of Truth," is represented here by a pair of tracks that are the least rootsy of the bunch.

The generous 18 tracks are sequenced for musical continuity, rather than chronology, making this a surprisingly organic compilation of material drawn from over a dozen years of recording. This disc is an excellent place to start one's appreciation of Hinojosa's career. [©2006 redtunictroll at hotmail dot com]

Johnny Cash “The Legend of Johnny Cash Vol. 2” (UME)

This 20-track collection is a good follow-up to last year's volume one. Both offer up seminal Cash sides, from his early days at Sun through his golden years at Columbia, his stay at Mercury in the '80s and his career capping sides for American. Both volumes also sandwich themselves in the narrow space between single-disc hit collections and deeper anthologies like 1992 and 2002's "Essential" titles, 2000's thematic "Love, God, Murder," 2005's 4-disc "The Legend," or Bear Family's oppressive triple-shot of box sets.

Both single-disc "Legend" volumes sample from the entire length of Cash's career, which means that they necessarily short-change any one phase, and leave out some seminal album releases. What you get instead is a sketch – rather than a full-color picture – of Cash's artistic arc, from slap-back echo at Sun through his righteous songs of the man in black, and finishing with stark, folk-styled renditions recorded with Rick Rubin for the American label.

Cash's fans may find this selection of tracks to be scattershot, duplicative of discs they already own, or unrepresentative of their particular favorites. But fans with deep Cash collections aren't the audience for this release. Instead, the songs have been selected and sequenced to make a compelling spin for new converts, those inspired by Cash's passing and subsequent biopic. And for these new fans, the Legend discs provide a good introduction to Cash's vast catalog that provides a bird's eye view from which to zoom in on specific eras or styles. [©2006 redtunictroll at hotmail dot com]