RY COODER

"I, Flathead" (Nonesuch/Perro Verde)

Ry Cooder completes his intriguing California trilogy with "I, Flathead," another record that stands out for its lyricism and sounds a lot like a book set to music. Which, in this case, it is.

Cooder also wrote a novella that comes with the record.

"I, Flathead" tells the story of fictional "flathead" race car driver and musician Kash Buk, his band the Klowns and a variety of other friends and hangers on. It's very much a California record, but not in a Beach Boys sort of way. Cooder summons up images of losers and loners, deserts and car races, dance halls and roadhouses to create a fictional world that seems to keep reality just out of reach.

But in many ways, it's more real than what is right outside the window.

"I, Flathead" is not unlike the first record in his trilogy, 2005's "Chavez Ravine" that was based on the true story of the destruction of a Los Angeles neighborhood to make way for Dodger Stadium.

While "I, Flathead" doesn't have that much of its basis in reality, it does hearken back to a time that maybe never did exist, but seems like it could. Johnny Cash, cars, country music, and steel guitar players all get a tip of the hat from Cooder.

More successful than last year's "My Name is Buddy," but not quite as moving as "Chavez Ravine," "I, Flathead" gives listeners (and readers) plenty to consider. And in that regard, it's an unqualified success.

-- Scott Bauer, Associated Press

BILL FRISELL

"History, Mystery" (Nonesuch)

Guitarist Bill Frisell, who performed at Jefferson Center a week ago today, does not often make music to please people. Long a prominent guitarist on the Munich-based ECM label and a stalwart of New York's experimental music scene, Frisell has been an insider lionized more by fellow musicians and critics than the public.

Yet this double CD is different. Much of it came from a 2002 multimedia collaboration with artist and comic book author Jim Woodring, and a lot was recorded on tour, which can make a difference connecting with folks.

Frisell is clever at appropriating parts of genres and never getting stuck in one. These 30 cuts convey dollops of country, blues, jazz and rock along with tango and other world elements in a largely seamless conglomeration.

The sound is different partly because Frisell imports violinist Jenny Scheinman, whose plaintive strings hold up throughout. A strong back line, with bassist Tony Scherr and drummer Kenny Wollesen, anchors this freewheeling, almost cinematic outfit. Reed man Greg Tardy and cornetist Ron Miles are the simpatico horns.

The originals can be twitchy and too artful at times. Frisell, who was born in Baltimore, takes an oddly modernist view of The Wire's burg on "Waltz for Baltimore."

But you have to love the mournful lines of "Struggle" or how Sam Cooke's "A Change Is Gonna Come" is done in a soulful country blues.

-- Karl Stark, The Philadelphia Inquirer

THE WAR ON DRUGS

"Wagonwheel Blues" (Secretly Canadian)

It's a tricky thing, making music that bears the influence of Bob Dylan as much as "Wagonwheel Blues" does, while still sounding utterly fresh. The War on Drugs, the Philadelphia band led by singer Adam Granduciel and guitarist Kurt Vile, succeeds so well because it marries mid-'60s Dylan folk-rock wordiness with the gauzy head rush of alt-rock benchmark bands like My Bloody Valentine and Sonic Youth. On the ringing, harmonica-saturated opener, "Arms Like Boulders," when Granduciel sings the enigmatic but not impenetrable lyrics "Your spine it is weak, from the weight on your shoulders, and from difference of opinion," he accents each line with an unforced familiar drawl that never is reduced to a sneering caricature. It helps, too, when the gossamer instrumental "Reverse the Charges" provides a shimmering lead into the 10-minute "Show Me the Coast," a song that gathers momentum with an unhurried confidence, arguing that War On Drugs is likely to find whatever it is it's looking for.

-- Dan DeLuca, The Philadelphia Inquirer

G. LOVE & SPECIAL SAUCE "Superhero Brother" (Brushfire)

In his quest to find his place within hip-hop, Garrett Dutton III -- G. Love -- has alternated between solo crooning as an MC and playing with Special Sauce, the pals he started his career in music with.

G. uses his signature mix of rapier raps and drawling vocals to tell tales of babies having babies and other nice vibrations.

But while the solo efforts are gently countrified affairs, the Sauce (drummer Jeffrey Clemens, bassist Jimi Prescott) bring out the sass in Dutton. With its stumbling rhythms and honky-tonk piano, "Communication" could be a lost Stones track circa "Exile on Main St." The same goes for the playful "City Livin'," with its jabbering brass and needling guitars.

The Special Sauce cooks best as a combination of hastened hip-hop and dirty funk. So, it makes a muddy mess of "Wiggle Worm" and a soulful stew of "Peace, Love and Happiness," complete with chunks of conga in the tasty mix.

Special Sauce may have been together for 15-plus years and Dutton may be a 36-year-old dad, but their groove is as young as when they started.

-- A.D. Amorosi, The Philadelphia Inquirer

JEFF HEALEY

"Mess of Blues" (Ruf)

Before he died of cancer in March at 41, Jeff Healey made this return to the blues after several years exploring another passion, jazz of the '20s and '30s. "Mess of Blues" makes for a fine epitaph.

The blues-rock that brought Healey fame in the late '80s was often too florid for our taste, despite his six-string prowess (the blind singer played with the instrument flat on his lap). This time, however, Healey focuses on an eclectic set of mostly familiar numbers, from B.B. King, the Band and Hank Williams to the Elvis-covered Doc Pomus-Mort Shuman title song. Healey and his band display a good feel for all the material, freshening it up with roadhouse verve. (That's not to be confused with "Road House," the Patrick Swayze screen stinker in which Healey appeared.) Four of the 10 performances are live, which enhances the set's vitality.

-- Nick Cristiano, The Philadelphia Inquirer