Lauderdale is contemporary country's journeyman nonpareil: He writes hits for George Strait, his last full-length collaboration was with Ralph Stanley, and his next CD will be with Grateful Dead lyricist Robert Hunter. You'd almost think he got an early start on that last one with this splendid collection, which sports cosmic/earthy lyrics that think nothing of finding a rhyme for ''pomegranate'' and a rockin' New York jam band that somehow perfectly complements his North Carolina accent. Imagine the Flying Burrito Brothers and the Dead both living long enough to tangle at Bonnaroo and you, like they, will have the right idea.


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