Willie Nelson

Milk Cow Blues

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Hyping Milk Cow Blues as Willie Nelson's first official blues album is smart marketing, but these days Nelson simply makes Willie Nelson records—his legend and aesthetic transcend genre and concept. Milk Cow Blues is interesting not because it's blues-oriented but because it so often can't help but sound like pure Willie. Which is no accident, for his singing and songwriting have always employed blues phrasings. Case in point: the straightforward manner in which he approaches the umpteenth recycling of "Crazy," "Funny How Time Slips Away," and "Night Life." They're mostly delivered paint-by-number, except for the Dream Team magic B. B. King brings to "Night Life." And, yes, Milk Cow Blues is also yet another duet record, with two tracks apiece from Francine Reed, Dr. John, Jonny Lang, Susan Tedeschi, and King. Though it's tough to say whether youngsters like Lang and Tedeschi were invited to drive sales, song selection ultimately proves more important than who else is singing 'em. Alongside blues standards like "Kansas City" and "The Thrill Is Gone," a pair of long-forgotten Nelson tunes, "Wake Me When It's Over" and "Rainy Day Blues," stand strong. In fact, forget the guests altogether. A gorgeous solo reading of Bob Wills' "Sittin' on Top of the World" that should forever bridge the gap between western swing and blues winds up being the album's most spine-tingling moment. Nelson too often relegates himself to rhythm guitar parts for this CD to earn him the guitar-hero status he deserves, but Milk Cow Blues is still a showcase for singin' Willie. At 67, rarely has he sounded more authentic or compelling. How naturally the voice meets the material offers yet another graceful step forward, making Milk Cow Blues as eminently listenable as a plain ol' Willie record should be. In a perfect world, that alone would have warranted the hype.

The Gourds

Bolsa de Agua

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Since art is by nature a solo endeavor, it's the rare musical collaboration that doesn't end in compromise. Yet Bolsa de Agua, the fifth and best album in the Gourds' catalog, captures the Austin group locked in on practically every level. Half a decade has made survivors of the new kids on the block, yet they remain an oddball combination: deep-woods rootsy with an alternative art bent, led by hearty musical prowess and two songwriters who could not be more stylistically dissimilar. Kevin Russell is the meat-and-potatoes foot-stomping foundation of the group, whose best efforts resonate like charismatic old friends. The flipside is Jimmy Smith, whose work stubbornly refuses to yield to expectations. Like someone who asks, "You know what I think?" and then doesn't tell you, his songs can frustrate until they creep into your consciousness and stay there. The newest Gourd, Uncle Tupelo-Wilco veteran Max Johnston, contributes two surprisingly earthy rock ballads that fit perfectly in the repertoire. These new recordings transcend the slapdash feel of the band's earlier releases. And though any one of these songwriters could have made a fine album, together they've created what is surely one of the year's best.

Barbara Lynn

Hot Night Tonight

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The 1962 soul-pop hit "You'll Lose a Good Thing" and appearances on American Bandstand put Beaumont's Barbara Lynn on the map as the world's greatest (though perhaps only) left-handed female blues guitarist. That reputation has carried her ever since, despite just three new albums recorded over the past fifteen years—a scarcity that makes Hot Night Tonight all the more a joy to hear. More than half of the twelve tracks have "man" or "love" in the title (one notable exception is "Don't Hit Me No More"), which should tip you off to the brand of R&B that Lynn lays down, owing more than a few debts to the vocal stylings of Tyrone Davis and the late Johnnie Taylor. But she's more than all that. Lynn proves herself to be a thoroughly modern gal (by working off the hip-hop rap of her son Batchlor Wise Johnson on "You're the Man") as well as a guitarslinger in the great Texas tradition. When she tears off some blazing licks on "Lynn's Blues" in particular, she effectively puts all the Jonny Langs of the world in their place. It's all about tone, boys, not speed. Standout cut: "When Something's Wrong," the old Isaac Hayes composition—she sings it like she owns it.

The Deathray Davies

The Return of The Drunk Ventriloquist

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Taking cues from their namesake, Ray Davies of the Kinks, Dallas' Deathray Davies also pay homage to Roky Erickson, Nuggets-era garage bands, and Guided By Voices. The Davies share Voices' same Brit-invasion worship for interstitial song snippets, but despite those influences they are no ventriloquist act. Two years ago the group's brainchild, John Dufilho, was accepted to Austin's South by Southwest Music Festival on the basis of a tape of self-recorded songs and had to cobble together a band. Thus the Davies were born. The Return of the Drunk Ventriloquist includes a sextet of players from Dallas indie bands (most notably Peter Schmidt, formerly of Three on a Hill and Funland). These fifteen tracks are a blissful ride of experimental disorder, all fuzzed-out guitars, Augie Meyers-like organ fills, and instantly memorable melodies.

Last Forever

Trainfare Home

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Last Forever fuses the talents of Manhattan songwriter, arranger, and keyboardist Dick Connette and singer Sonya Cohen of Austin. She is the daughter of John Cohen of the New Lost City Ramblers and the niece of Pete Seeger. The music, most of it written by Connette, extends American folk traditions by putting them in a new context of violins, cellos, and horns, along with more typical folk instruments like dulcimers, mandolins, and guitars. Rather than remake familiar traditional material like "Casey Jones," Connette creates new songs based on those characters. Or he finds his own—"John Doe #24," whose obituary appeared in the New York Times—and writes traditional lyrics. This doesn't always work: The Mississippi John Hurt medley is lightweight, the snake-charmer version of "Duke of Earl" a noble failure. But most of these songs are as no-frills elegant as the music that inspired them, while likewise coming to the same conclusion: What an eerie thing is life in this land.