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.

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

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

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.

Adventurous roots-music aficionados will want to book themselves a date for Traveler, a masterfully planned Dixieland journey that lets the good times roll easy.

The album’s overall spirit of adventure is summed up in the gorgeous title track, written by the Perrys with fellow family trio The Henningsens. Starting sweet and delicate, it offers a message of encouragement to be bold in the face of uncertainty and doubt as it builds to a thrilling crescendo.

Country music and old-time gospel music have borrowed from each other for decades, but rarely have the two styles blended as flawlessly as on a new offering from one of gospel music's most revered groups.

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.

With this, his fourth country album, Darius and his team have most definitely solidified his sound with expertly layered, but not overdone, musical arrangements that add some dimension to his already warmly textured vocals.

The result feels a little something like those beloved ‘80s movies in spirit and aesthetic.

This Texas-bred singer knows how to convey heartfelt and complex emotions with one clever turn of a phrase.

A couple of back-to-back tracks midway through the project bear a sonic similarity to each other, but their topics are so different, you’ll want to keep listening.

Uncaged, does nothing to tarnish their sterling image and even manages to expand it a bit.

The only real clunker is a lugubrious redo of “Lodi,” featuring John’s sons Tyler and Shane, but otherwise, this should be a must for Fogerty followers.

Bocephus-like clarinets, old-timey lyrics and Toby's smooth-as-whiskey delivery assure purists that there is still Hope for classic barroom singalongs.

The resulting album is earthy, warm and spacious, not sounding too fussed over or suffocated with studio tricks.

While he’s done nearly a dozen yesteryear-based solo albums, this one is distinguished by its smartly chosen representation of the Gershwins’ musical breadth and the handpicked, multi-stylistic band (with Mickey Raphael’s winsome yet penetrating harmonica again providing a crucial link to Willie’s larger body of work) fittingly snazzing up the affair while making the most of Willie’s no-dress-code musical fusion.

At times the slower tempos make the album feel longer than it actually is, but it’s never dull.

Heroes indicates that the future is in good hands.

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

This is easily Carrie's most well-rounded and confident work to date.

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

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.

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

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

Keith promised that Fuse would change things up, and he delivered.

The collection really soars when it blends the personal and the spiritual.

Kill the Lights isn’t consistently pleasing, but it does represent a progression and evolution from Luke’s previous material.