There’s a common theme of relationships among many of the songs, with the ballads “Lonely Tonight” and “Anyone Else” coming away as the strongest of the bunch.

The project truly succeeds because of the various voices in The SteelDrivers, who consider their bluegrass to be one painted from a darker palette--which, at times, can feel a little too dark.

His recorded albums, and even his mesmerizing live show, have gradually incorporated a country sound. That trend continues on his latest, the rewarding 14-song Rebel Soul.

Both the chestnuts and The Band selections here sound best in their original versions (partly due to the diminished power of Levon's voice after his bout with throat cancer). But his singing brims with spirit, and he and his cohorts deliver these mostly vintage tunes with gusto.

Sara's pop-country sound is rich Southern comfort, delivered organically and with authenticity.

While Taylor turns her wrath on a woman who steals her man on "Better Than Revenge," she turns that critical eye on herself in "Back to December," a thorough apology to a former lover she regrets having left behind. Other tunes, such as "Mean" and "Sparks Fly," suffer from generic and sometimes underdeveloped lyrics.

Heroes indicates that the future is in good hands.

Overall, a solid debut from a young, still-maturing artist.

The turquoise-hued bluegrass offered here is anything but generic--it's specialty-shop stuff.

If you've ever been worried that good old Southern-fried boogie is an endangered species, then Dixie Lullabies should help you rest a little easier.

The disc reveals a few hard edges but offers optimism even as it explores the thornier corners of human behavior.

While it lacks the emotional heft of Merle's acclaimed 2010 album, I Am What I Am, the cancer survivor's latest album boasts plenty of flinty independence.

Joe is at his best on the traditional romps like "This Ole Boy" and "No Truck, No Boat, No Girl."

Quietly and artfully, if not especially dynamically, McKenna unearths striking truths about the fragility of life and relationships.

Taylor wrote or co-wrote everything here herself (including the hit “Tim McGraw”), and while the most immediately striking songs are her eviscerations of no-good teenage boys (“Should’ve Said No,” “Picture to Burn”), the more thoughtful material suggests a talent poised to last well past high school.

Red may not be a bona fide country album, but it could very well be a pop masterpiece, more in line with P!nk's latest, The Truth About Love, than even Red's predecessor, Speak Now.

While the album lacks some of the energy and freshness of 2010's Nothing Like This, introspective tunes such as "A Little Home," "Sunrise" (co-written by Joe Don) and the Lady Antebellum-esque "Come Wake Me Up" add even more depth to the trio's sound.

True to form, his major-label debut is a personal, understated and unpredictable collection.

Collectively, they touch upon a complex range of emotions and interconnections, supported by sparse and countrified instrumentation that sets an appropriately Texan tone.

Country music as pure as the kind heard on Rare Bird Alert is rare indeed, and worthy of consideration--even if it does come from a pretty odd duck.

His label home may have changed, but his everyman approach to songwriting holds steady.

Only a real party-pooper would deny Guy's talented pals the chance to respectfully demonstrate how well this stuff still works.

Release Me provides a clear picture of Lovett's stylistic bedrock, and reminds that he's stood steadfast upon it all along.

Despite the album's title, she plays it safe rather than wild.

Hitting a sweet spot between honky-tonk and the more sophisticated Nashville Sound of yore, Long Line of Heartaches delivers unapologetically traditional fare without resorting to self-conscious nostalgia.

Overall, Josh's sound boasts enough twang to keep it country and enough soulful passion to keep things interesting.

The charm of these tracks, though, is in their now-less-common unselfconsciousness (with its close kin, indulgence, lurking nearby) and the largely likable blemishes reminding us that music, above all, should sound human. For better and occasionally worse, this music unquestionably does.

It’d be nice to see Luke, the reigning ACM Entertainer of the Year, grow out of the fields he’s so clearly comfortable in. But for now, if the soil is still bearing fruit, you can’t blame him for continuing to plow ahead.

Ultimately, Life on a Rock’s most exciting moments come when Kenny pushes his limits on something unusual

Despite the presence of utterly infectious single “Downtown” and the jangly “Better Off Now That You’re Gone,” the first half of Golden is a little too polished, as if the trio couldn’t escape the pull of Own the Night’s gravitas.

As he moves beyond his rap boundaries into more country-rock fare, this album is a step forward for the Kid.

Overall, these songs are safe, inoffensive and respectable, but they simply don't quite scale the same musical heights of Dolly's former glories such as "Jolene" or "I Will Always Love You."

Live in Japan-an album unreleased in the U.S. until now-shows the entertainer in good form, doing a lightweight, crowd-pleasing set especially indicative of the dead-center-mainstream approach that had cemented his fame.

"Family" oozes with humility and domestic contentment, while the gentle, Nashville-leaning "Lucky That Way" (sung with Kenny Chesney on Crossroads) is a Walsh mini-biography

Ranging from jazzy jaunts to breezy tropical confections and varied country and blues hues, the sometimes-scattered Ready for Confetti is a multicolored parade in which even the shovel-pusher walking behind the horses can find that hope happens, too.

If that weren't the case, the well-rounded first installment of Remember Me would nonetheless serve as a modest but fitting memorial to a world-class artist, as well as a testament to Willie's enduring musical ties to Nashville.

Country Hits Bluegrass Style is mostly a rehash of Ricky's 2008 album for Cracker Barrel.

While Snider has been more entertaining and melodically engaging on previous efforts, here he risks trying to get his head around the disturbing times in which we live and, just as importantly, to avoid clichéd responses.

Frankly, traditional-minded listeners will wonder if the whole crew shouldn't be committed, as this quirky affair-depending on your perspective--is either brilliant or crazy.

There's plenty of room on these 11 tracks for Kellie's steely determination to shine.

Even if the whole affair is something of a lark, Norah's songbird stylings and The Willies' uncluttered arrangements send it skyward.

The album plays like a tribute to an earlier era, rich with period atmosphere, and Gregg, as always, delivers an authenticity few white singers could muster.

Her recurring implication that this life may be all we have is a bold notion that may bring relief or dismay-and your response to that notion will tell you whether or not Hello Cruel World is an album you'll greet with open arms.

This album brings together a diverse lineup of artists for a collection that promotes the message that God has more to do with love than religion.

Aside from bandmate Dan Tyminski's American-roots turns, there are fewer diversions this time from the restrained, often introspective fare Alison favors, including the regrettable omission of the stirring devotionals that have graced her past works.

With this vocal showcase, Ronnie may finally garner a long-overdue best male country vocalist award.

It's a formula sure to satisfy any fan--even Bruce.

She doesn't just alternately pay homage to country and jazz here; she elegantly blends the two.

Hank's been bruised but not broken, and Old School's aggressive attitude evidences that he still rules, with or without reinforcements, on his particular piece of the playground.

Country die-hards are likely to favor something sturdier, but listeners who walk on the wilder side are sure to find a few kicks inside Little Red Boots.

While some of the project’s dozen tracks, like the beautiful ballad “Do You Remember” and the refreshingly ’70s-sounding “Lay Low,” which calls to mind Gary Stewart, are of Blake’s caliber, others feel rushed.

Younger listeners will get the most out of this sometimes-inspired, retro-leaning smorgasbord; the more observant among them may even discern that Wanda's "bad girl" '50s persona, unlike today's blunt and blush-worthy equivalent, is nothing more than an act.

Much of the rest of the album features ho-hum mid-tempos and ballads that don’t move the meter much in either direction.

Kenny's sincere vocal delivery and the lyric content of each track are promising--but together, they register barely above maudlin, thanks to an overabundance of puttering tempos and downtrodden story lines.

There's nothing wild or organic about this overly calculated debut.