On their sophomore effort, Canada's Cowboy Junkies manage to make a one-day recording session in an old church one of their most satisfying listens. Featuring the sultry voice of Margo Timmins, the precise musicianship of her brothers Peter (on drums) and Michael (on guitar), and bassist Alan Anton, The Trinity Sessions is a spare, evocative, countrified-rock classic. Their inspired reworking of both "Blue Moon" and "Working On A Building" reveal the Timmins family to be talented interpreters and insightful neo-traditionalists. Mixing the ambitious songwriting of Margo and Michael Timmins with subdued covers of Lou Reed's "Sweet Jane" and Hank Williams' "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry," The Trinity Sessions is an exquisite collection that holds up quite well under repeated listenings. -Mitch Myers.

The considerable promise carried forth on Gillian Welch's first two albums is thoroughly fulfilled on Time (The Revelator). Welch has traded the guidance of her previous producer, T-Bone Burnett, for the sympathetic studio skills of her longtime guitarist-harmony singer David Rawlings, who loosens the reins just enough to allow moments of spontaneity to sparkle within the duo's spare, eloquent playing. "Revelator" is an instant classic, perhaps the first great American folk song of the 21st century. "I Want to Sing That Rock and Roll" is three minutes of Louvins/Everlys-style bliss. "April the 14th, Part 1" haunts its historical context with an achingly melancholy melody. It all leads up to the epic 14-minute "I Dream a Highway", one of the finest closing tracks ever put on record. -Peter Blackstock.

Arguably the most eclectically prolific artist since Prince, Ryan Adams continues his chameleon revivalism with his most straight forward country music to date. Having evoked the inspiration of bands ranging from T. Rex to the Grateful Dead on previous solo releases, the former Whiskeytown frontman here channels the likes of Faron Young on "My Heart Is Broken," while framing the shot-and-a-beer opener, "A Kiss Before I Go," with honky-tonk piano and pedal steel. "Seems like I'm always movin'," he sings amid the rockabilly kick of "Trains," as the album finds his restless muse ranging from a dreamy duet with Norah Jones on "Dear John" to naked vulnerability reminiscent of John Lennon on "Silver Bullets. " Only Adams would cut a track titled "The End" and sequence it second on the CD, or a song called "Peaceful Valley" and inject it with so much emotion. -Don McLeese.

It takes time to digest this Feast of Wire. The melodic appeal of Calexico's fourth album is not instantaneous, these evocative sounds taking time with their bodily infusion. The studio manifestation of Calexico is centred around impressively multi-instrumental busybody Joey Burns and the more single-minded (but equally sensitive) percussion specialist John Convertino. The current road-band members are also on hand to contribute their own shadings, along with a strong contingent of string players and backing singers. Recorded at home in Tucson, Arizona, all of the tunes are quite short, lending an episodic, soundtrack quality. The canvas is extremely broad, with horns and strings colouring the edges, while Burns tinkers about on accordion, organ, mandolin, melodica and synths. "Sunken Waltz" makes a modest opener, a traipsing ballad that's quickly overtaken by the rubberised bounce of "Quattro". "Black Heart" provides an early peak, its unearthly string arrangement backing a beautifully resigned Burns vocal. It's like an old 78 record, remixed last week, ending with a decelerated glide that crackles with electronic interference. "Attack El Robot! Attack!" is also rife with electro-roughage, blanketing its toytown guitar figures and brass fanfares. [+]

"Appalachia circa 1907" is the way they described it after release. It wasn't, of course, but it was as close as you could come in 1987 and still hope to sell the million copies that this ended up selling. The "Three Tenors" of country music juggle leads, complement each other to often haunting effect and subjugate their egos to a greater cause. The songs run the gamut from primordial country favourites like "Rosewood Casket" and "Hobo's Meditation", to 1950s pop (a rather anomalous "To Know Him Is To Love Him") and mainstream country. The instrumentation is restrained, the vocals are unfailingly lovely and the result is a trio that is more than the sum of its parts. -Colin Escott.

Demolition is a sort of "best of" compilation comprising 13 previously unreleased demos by Ryan Adams. Recorded at four different studio sessions in Nashville, Los Angeles and Stockholm, with a cast of musicians that includes his road band the Pinkhearts, Gillian Welch, David Rawlings, Ethan Johns, Chris Stills, Bucky Baxter and Greg Leisz, Demolition proves that Adams is still a work-in-progress: brilliant one moment, sloppy the next. When he's good, he's very good: the rousing country-rocker "Hallelujah", the brooding acoustic ballads "Dear Chicago" and "Tomorrow", and the jangly power-pop number "Gimme a Sign" are as fine as anything on Gold. But Adams sometimes lapses into mimicry, as he does on "Nuclear" and "Starting to Hurt", both of which could be outtakes from a U2 album. "Tennessee Sucks", a chronicle of a boredom-filled summer day in Nashville, sounds half-baked, while the closing track, "Jesus (Don't Touch My Baby)", which finds Adams (on synthesizer, guitars, bass and drum machine) droning on like Leonard Cohen, falls in the "failed experiment" category. Despite its bright spots, Demolition ultimately comes off as a mixed bag. -David Hill.