The second compilation of out-of-print singles, b-sides, sessions and unreleased material from the chameleon variously known as Palace, Bonnie Prince Billy and plain old Will Oldham finds the Louisville auteur in typically disparate mood. An "official bootleg", including several tracks salvaged from the "lost" (i. e. abandoned) pre-Joya album Guarapero, Lost Blues 2 highlights the melodic sampling tendencies of this singular musical cuckoo. Angelo Badalamenti's Twin Peaks theme slinks around in the background of "Gezundheit" and "Every Mother's Son" more than nods to Neil Young's "Helpless". However, they are adopted and reared by Oldham to beguiling effect, branded with his signature hoarse vocal scrawl, which at times whips itself up to a yelp as he makes his mandatory lyrical exploration of equine spiritualism. Arrangements are edgily loose, sometimes ragged, usually underpinned by spidery guitar and simple drum patterns, with the live version of "Stable Will" knocking spots off its studio sibling and "For the Mekons et al" paying oblique tribute to veteran Leeds country-punksters the Mekons. Perhaps the most haunting track is "Let the Wires Ring", the most tender is "Take However Long You Want" and the oddest is a bluesy cover of the AC/DC ode to adolescent punning, "Big Balls", defying customary accusations of slo-fi preciousness. Less organically majestic than I See A Darkness, more feisty than its predecessor, Lost Blues And Other Stories, Lost Blues 2 is a diversely rich curate's egg of eclectic oddities, mostly hard-boiled but just occasionally sunny side up. -David Vincent.

Torrential creativity has fast-forwarded the artistic evolution of former Whiskeytown frontman Ryam Adams from country-rock boy wonder to despondent troubadour with a 1960s fixation (his solo debut Heartbreaker), but it may also explain why listeners often need to wade through some pedestrian material just to find a few pearls of poetic excellence. Gold is no exception to that trend, a sometimes engaging middle-of-the-road roots-pop album that's both overlong (70 minutes) and at times overindulgent. There are high spots-such as the bouncy, breezy opener "New York, New York" and the plaintive ballad "When the Stars Go Blue" (which features a vocal turn reminiscent of Morrissey)-but much of the disc gets lost in forests of indistinct guitars and plodding percussion that never nudges Adams into actually rocking. Gold is the work of a notoriously prolific songwriter who hasn't yet learned to play to his strengths, one whose execution doesn't yet match his vision. -Anders Smith Lindall.

Because this 1988 album produced hits for others ("Passionate Kisses" for Mary-Chapin Carpenter, "The Night's Too Long" for Patty Loveless), Williams is best known as a songwriter. She certainly deserves the rep: her "Side Of The Road", for example, expresses the tension between loving another and remaining yourself better than any song ever written. But what makes this album so special is her voice. When she sings about wanting to visit "Crescent City", she packs more sheer longing into her delivery than even the greatest of songs could express. And, bonus, Lucinda Williams is chock full of great songs. -David Cantwell.