I’ve been singing Burke’s praises for some time on this site. I think the man has the best voice in music. And I actually prefer the voice of older, weathered, obese Burke then that of the younger, silkier, svelter Burke. And Burke’s 2002 gem Don’t Give Up on Me, in which Burke sings songs written for him by legends like Bob Dylan, Nick Lowe, Tom Waits, and Joe Henry (who also produced the album) may well be the best soul album I’ve ever heard.

Nashville falls short of Don’t Give Up on Me, but it’s still a spectacular album. It’s a collection of country covers, and in many of them Burke shares vocals with country icons like Dolly Parton, Patty Griffin, Emmylou Harris, and Gillian Welch. Burke’s voice is as rich and full and as ever. He’s wry and cunning on lighter songs like “Honey Where’s the Money Gone” and “You’re the Kind of Trouble,” and he emits languish and heartache on songs like “Does My Ring Burn Your Finger?” and “‘Till I Get It Right.” His phrasing and interpretation of songs written by and for other artists surpasses most of the originals. The man is simply a brilliant vocalist, unjustly overlooked when people talk about the great soul acts like Otis Redding, Sam Cooke, and Wilson Pickett.

It’s an unfortunate indictment of the American music consumer that this CD was vastly outsold by Rod Stewart’s “American Songbook” dreck.

I believe it was Esquire magazine that once wrote “the three sexiest words in American music are ‘with Emmylou Harris.’”

Harris and Gram Parsons basically founded the alt.country genre. And Harris has since made a career –and made careers — by helping popularize the genre, and helping promising young acts by lending her endorsement and her exquisitely beautiful voice to their vocals. Knopfler is the former lead singer for Dire Straits, a terrific band unfortunately marred by success of that terrible 1980s single “Money for Nothing.” Since the band broke up, Knopfler has released some stellar solo albums — my favorite is 2000’s “Sailing to Philadelphia.”

All the Roadrunning was recorded over several years, whenever Harris and Knopfler could find time to be in the same studio. If you like both of them, this album is exactly what you might expect. It’s soothing, brooding, and warm. Not particularly creative or groundbreaking. Just superb musicianship and two terrific artists.

I’ve raved about this hipster bluegrass band several times before. I’m still not sure this album is better than their self-titled debut. But it has some really outstanding cuts, including “I Hear Them All,” an anthem that for my money is the best protest song of the 2000s. Libertarians might also dig “Let It Alone,” a ditty about minding your owned damned business.

Old Crow’s authenticity is what makes them great. These guys know their material. The album explores all facets of life in bluegrass country, from faith to poverty to love to drugs to redemption. They don’t just like mountain boys, they talk like them, too. They use words like “rounders,” and sing about cotton, bobcats, and railroads. “James River Blues” is a beautiful song about the plight of Virginia dock workers when the railroad opened up.

One other thing: They’re a spectacular live act.

Like Old Crow, Dylan went retro this year, putting out an album that is quintessentially American. It draws influence from nearly every genre of Americana roots music, from blues and bluegrass to soul to jazz to parlor music. He borrows melodies, lyrics, and verses from lots of different sources, melds and mixes them, and produces tracks both timeless and innovative. The first cut, “Thunder on the Mountain” would have been as at home on Love and Theft as on Highway 61. It’s brash, but with an old-timey feel. He invokes God and armies and “tough sons of bitches,” but also expresses his fondness for Alicia Keyes.

The lyrics are provocative and poetic, Dylan’s capable as ever of giving me that writer’s buzz I get when I hear or read a line that I’d wish I had written. I saw Dylan in New York a couple of years ago, and one thing that struck me was the uncompromising professionalism of his band. They were all business, and didn’t miss a note the entire show. That musicianship is certainly on display in Modern Times. Dylan spends many of the tracks winding through multiple key and tempo changes and his band succeeds and making some exceedingly complex compositions sound like back porch jam sessions.

Not sure where I’d rank Modern Times with Dylan’s other late-in-life triumphs, Love and Theft, and Time Out of Mind. It’ll probably take me a while. Love and Theft took about a year for me to appreciate. It’s now one of my favorite albums.

Straight ahead, kick-ass rock. I don’t know that I’d call this a “supergroup,” as some have. It’s more Jack White’s side project — which may well become his main project — and a deserved bump to prime time for superb songwriter Brendan Benson. The album screams 70s, with nods to Queen, David Bowie, Grand Funk Railroad, Yes, Peter Frampton, Big Star, T. Rex, the Rolling Stones, the Kinks, and Led Zeppelin. How’s that?

The hit single, “Steady As She Goes” is my pick for single of the year, save for maybe Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy.” But that’s certainly not all. The album’s a solid listen front to back, with rockers like “Hands,” “Call It a Day,” and “Level.” “Yellow Sun” feels heavy with Brendan’s more intricate songwriting — it sounds like a cut off a Donovan greatest hits album. White’s vocals on “Intimate Secretary” and “Your Blue Veins” might as well be Robert Plant. On the latter, you envision Plant belting the tune out in the midst of some sweltering stadium tour in, say, 1977.

This album’s a no bullshit throwback, albeit with just enough tweaks to make it feel new. Loves it.

I bought this CD mostly out of principle. Thing is, it’s very good independent of its politics. “Not Ready to Make Nice” is so defiant and badass, it gives me goosebumps. It’s also a well-written song. The Chicks also get songwriting help from some pretty serious players, most notably blues legend Keb Mo’ and Neil Finn, the former half of Crowded House who has since put together a couple of excellent solo albums. The album really forges its own sound. It’s not really alt.country, or radio country, or even crossover country. The production’s a bit slick for my taste, but the songs themselves are strong enough that they’d do quite well even without the gloss.

The Black Keys often get lumped in with the White Stripes, mostly because they’re both two-person bands steeped deep in American roots rock. But the two bands have diverged. The White Stripes haven’t really been a blues band since De Stijl. The Black Keys, meanwhile, have honed their blues. They grow dirtier, greasier, ballsier, and brasher with each record. That’s no dig on the Stripes — Elephant’s still one of the best CDs of the 2000s. But the Keys have just stayed true to form. Their last three albums, including this one, rip track after track of bare-bones, blissful grit, with surging guitar riffs, towering backbeats, and Dan Auerbach’s achy, white-boy soul.

Rockers like “Just Got to Be” will rattle your speakers from their moorings, while lonely ballads like “Strange Desire” or “Modern Times” work up a slow burn, like rust eating through an old Chevelle. This is blues in its purest form. Untamed, primitive, and uncompromising. More people need to know about this band.

Others:

Albums that may make this list after a few more listens: Neko Case, Fox Confessor Brings the Flood; Josh Ritter, The Animal Years; Slaid Cleaves, Unsung; Rhett Miller, The Believer; Snow Patrol, Eyes Open.

Albums I intend to buy that I have good reason to think might make this list: Tom Waits, Orphans; Ray Davies, Other People’s Lives, Drive By Truckers, A Blessing and a Curse, The Hold Steady, Boys and Girls in America, Todd Snider, The Devil You Know.

This entry was posted on Monday, January 1st, 2007 at 12:14 pm by Radley Balko and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.