Second solo album by a legendary yet painfully underrecognized Tucson singer-songwriter, one of the progenitors of the desert rock sound later made popular by Calexico. Slow bluesy guitars, pedal steel, horns, and dramatic rhythms form the backdrop to his excellent lyrics, which reflect on a long life that’s been filled with serious downturns but has gradually let him achieve some hard-earned stability. (It’s worth looking him up and reading about his story.) He’s a master songwriter, and he should be playing sold-out shows at places like the Freight and Salvage and getting the same level of respect as folks like Townes Van Zandt or Mary Gauthier. Favorites: 1, 4, 5, 6, 8. FCC WARNING: 9, maybe 12.

1. *(4:34)—Slow, melancholy, with cinematic pacing and lyrics (“rain begins to spit, first a drop, then the whole world’s wet”). Prominent pedal steel.
2. (4:10)—Mid-tempo, laidback. Low and insistent strumming, accordion-like keys.
3. (5:33)—Slow, dark, and bluesy, with a theatrically ragged vocal performance.
4. *(2:56)—Medium-fast power pop. Rocking, with nice organ and harmonies.
5. *(3:22)—Slow. Shel Silverstein cover. Old recording feel, old-school Western band on the porch. Slide guitar, harmonica, accordion.
6. *(4:12)—Very slow, nocturnal, rueful, beautiful. Nice and deep stand-up bass, great trumpet solo.
7. (2:42)—Medium-slow, swampy rocking swagger. Great backing vocals and handclaps.
8. *(3:03)—Medium-slow, with a minimal modern country groove. (“My eyes are not the windows to my soul.”)
9. (1:41)—FCC (s***). Spoken word poem about prison life (“you ain’t worth a stamp or the spit to send it on”).
10. (4:24)—Slow, lumbering blues rock.
11. (5:14)—Medium-slow road song, with some slightly post-rock lead. Dense choruses with horns and squelchy synth effects.
12. (4:17)—POSSIBLE FCC (“we stop so she can pee,” your call I guess). Slow, wistful country. Big pedal steel.