Rodney Crowell Peaks All over Again

They called it the great credibility scare. It was that moment in the late '80s when country music's old outlaws had fallen into disrepair -- or worse, they'd stumbled out of post-cocaine recovery and fallen into Nashville's homogenizing embrace -- and the likes of Steve Earle, Dwight Yoakam, and Nanci Griffith had to come along to make everything real again. In that climate, a song like "Guitar Town" sounded like revolution.

Rodney Crowell found himself swept up in the wave. Emmylou Harris had taken the Texas-born singer-songwriter from relative obscurity to full-blown cult buzz when she recruited Crowell into her Hot Band in the mid-'70s. Ten years into his solo career, Crowell peaked with 1988's Diamonds & Dirt, an album that found a perfect middle-ground between shiny hillbilly pop and grown-up songwriting. To this day, "I Couldn't Leave You if I Tried" still sounds like the instant classic we all thought it was.

He wasn't too happy, mind you, credibility scare or not. Rodney Crowell has spent the intervening years proving that he's a capital A artist rather than a capital S success. When I spoke to him prior to his show with Emmylou Harris in Vancouver back in November, while he was touring their lovely album of duets, Old Yellow Moon, Crowell said he "felt like a phony" back when Diamonds & Dirt carpet-bombed radio with five number one country singles.

Needless to say, there's nothing remotely phony-feeling on Crowell's 14th solo album, Tarpaper Sky. That voice is sounding a lot more lived-in on opening track, "The Long Journey Home," although Crowell naturally brings substance to the entire set by virtue of all that bull-headed experience he's packed into the last four decades of work.

You can preview the whole record here. Right off the bat, "Fever on the Bayou" and the smart-alecky rocker "Frankie Please" both demonstrates the light touch of a master tunesmith, where the craft is too deft for us to notice. There's also the antique warmth of "Grandma Loved That Old Man," some cod gospel in the shape of "Jesus Talk to Mama," and hardnosed Texas romance -- think Guy Clark or Townes Van Zandt -- on "I Wouldn't Be Me Without You."

"God I'm Missing You" brings a bit more emotional heft to the set– the title alone should tip us off that Crowell is always straining for a yard or so more truth than most – but even the more frivolous moments on Tarpaper Sky still stick like glue. Meanwhile, bringing in a few of his old friends from Diamonds & Dirt, including guitarist Steuart Smith, Michael Rhodes (bass), and drummer Eddie Bayers, is a nice little wink at the long time listener. Back then, Crowell was merely very talented. Now he's an old soldier facing a late career upswing he probably neither expected nor cared too much about. I guess he couldn't leave us if he tried, not with a record this good.