Shawn Colvin

Whole New You

columbia

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What a difference five years makes. Shawn Colvin's 1996 CD, A Few Small Repairs, while cloaked in radio-friendly production, was lyrically full of spit and vitriol, a searing portrait of alienation and divorce that you happened to be able to sing along with. Remember the Grammy-winning "Sunny Came Home" and the venomous "Get Out of This House"? Since then the Austin singer has remarried and become a mother, and happiness and contentment fill her new songs. Take the effusive title track and first single, in which she sings "Shake your head and wonder when it's all too good to be true." Hand in hand with that sans souci comes a mannered and mature batch of songs. Recorded in Austin and New York with writing partner-producer John Leventhal, Whole New You is lovingly and meticulously rendered. There's little trace of the former folkie who sang backup on Suzanne Vega's "Luka"; this is Joni Mitchell-ish material embellished with strings and horns, banjo and clarinet. Colvin plays little guitar, but her voice—a gorgeous soprano, warm, supple, and ethereal—has gotten even better. She and Leventhal craft nugget after nugget, notably the winning melodies of "Anywhere You Go" and "Nothing Like You." The musicians are top-notch, and along for the ride are James Taylor, who sings harmony on the enigmatic "Bonefields," and Charlie Sexton, who does the same on "Roger Wilco," a spartan number co-written with Edie Brickell. Colvin's lyrics scrutinize human relationships with an unflinching eye, veering from the literal ("Bound to You") to the dreamlike ("Another Plane Went Down") to the ambiguous ("Mr. Levon") without missing a beat. Like her heroes Mitchell and painter Julie Speed, she's blessed with a talent that appeals to many but is charged with a spark that tugs her just left of center.

Bobby Bridger

A Ballad of the West

Golden Egg Records

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Thirty years ago the cosmic cowboy-progressive country sound swept through Austin, the first full-blown scene in what has evolved into Austin music. But of all its trailblazers—Jerry Jeff Walker, Willis Alan Ramsey, Willie Nelson—Bobby Bridger is the one who has stayed most on message. The Houston resident has remained true to his obsession with mountain man and great-great-uncle Jim Bridger, Native Americans, and the settling of the frontier by writing books and performing one-man shows while continuing to make music on the subjects he loves most. He adds to all that with A Ballad of the West, a trilogy that tells how the West was won and lost from the perspectives of pioneers, the Lakota Sioux, and Buffalo Bill Cody. This four-CD set is so lyrically rich it is best approached as an audio book, and taken on those terms, it's the perfect complement to Bridger's life's work.

Old 97's

Satellite Rides

Elektra

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What do you want the Old 97's to be? When the Dallas band released their first CD, 1994's Hitchhike to Rhome, they knocked down blazing alcohol-soaked love songs and a fine cover of Merle Haggard's "Mama Tried," firmly grabbing a spot in the alt-country canon. But on Satellite Rides, their fifth major release, they have left behind most of the "country" and all of the "alt." Longtime fans will continue to grumble about the band's direction, yet rarely have the Old 97's sounded as smart or as confident. Gone are the affected twangs and the rollicking train songs, but what's left are thirteen polished tracks devoted to the group's primary preoccupation—love and its aftermath. Some are shamelessly irresistible ("King of All the World"), others are disarmingly sweet ("Weightless"), and almost all sparkle with lines that are best sung with a knowing grin: "Do you wanna mess around" and "I believe in love, but it don't believe in me." Satellite Rides will undoubtedly renew the argument about who is the best band in Texas, but it makes one thing perfectly clear—the Old 97's can be anything they want.

Jon Emery

V.I.P.: The Leroy Preston Songbook

Rib House Records

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With his sense of humor, his down-and-out songs, and his wordplay that turned country convention upside down, Leroy Preston gave Asleep at the Wheel dimensions it has lacked since the seventies. Kyle's Jon Emery, a co-leader of Preston's post-Wheel band, Whiskey Drinkin' Music, reprises five of those songs here, and it's a measure of their durability that, with the possible exception of "My Baby Thinks She's a Train," none sound much like the originals but retain a similar impact. The irrepressible gospel of "Somebody Stole His Body" requires only a furiously strummed acoustic guitar, a prickly Dobro, and Emery's fire-and-brimstone vocals. The songs most listeners won't already know convey Preston's aching, mixed emotions just as strongly. "I'm Not the Sky" has such a spunky, upbeat sound that it takes a while to notice that its lyrics are as sad as his saddest ballads, and the closing "Leg Man," which is told from a frog's point of view, is both ridiculous and sublime.

Toadies

Hell Below/Stars Above

Interscope

Like ZZ Top or AC/DC, the Toadies have become almost instantly identifiable. But it's not because the Dallasites have flooded the market with similar-sounding albums. Instead their breakthrough single, 1995's "Possum Kingdom," has enjoyed a Spam-like shelf life. It has served as one of the top recurrent tracks on alternative, active, and mainstream rock formats for the better part of six years—the same time it has taken to release Hell Below/Stars Above. As belated follow-ups often do, it rings of now-or-never urgency, but time and familiarity haven't dulled the punch of the Toadies' creepy narratives, muscular hooks, and unfettered aggression. It's a formula that hinges largely on singer Todd Lewis' lung capacity, and his holler is no less hostile this time. And while the title track briefly breaks form by starting like the Clash and finishing like Humble Pie, it's the business-as-usual approach that yields the biggest buzzes—"Motivational," "Heel," and "You'll Come Down" find the Toadies hitting their stride harder, faster, and sharper than before. Time may not have made them a different band, but Hell Below/Stars Above proves it has made them a better one.