Billy Bragg

Billy Bragg is a folksinger, less because of his musical roots (which in fact owe more to the Clash than to the Child ballads) than his principal interest: that is, average folk like you and me. Bragg's overriding sense of humanity puts the heart into his love songs, the sparkle into his social sketches, and keeps even his most stridently ideological material from turning into socialist harangues.

These qualities can be found in their rawest form on Back to Basics, a 21-song album compiling the whole of Bragg's first three U.K. releases (Life's a Riot With Spy vs. Spy, Brewing Up With Billy Bragg, and Between the Wars). Recorded for the most part with little more than Bragg's electric guitar behind his rough-hewn vocals, the best of these songs -- "The Milkman of Human Kindness," "A New England," "Love Gets Dangerous," "Which Side Are You On" -- are tuneful and affecting despite their stripped-down simplicity. Nor does Talking With the Taxman About Poetry add much in the way of accompaniment, but that hardly keeps him from pulling a sense of drama from "Levi Stubbs' Tears" or lending "Ideology" the sort of power-chord majesty associated with bands like the Who.

Bragg begins to move toward a full-band sound with Workers Playtime, an album that bears the subtitle "Capitalism Is Killing Music." (And if you think Bragg doesn't see the joke in having such a legend on a major label release, you seriously underestimate his sense of humor.) As usual, the love songs are well-drawn and emotionally involving, but this time around the political tunes -- particularly the countryish "Rotting on Remand" and the triumphant "Waiting for the Great Leap Forwards" -- have the edge melodically. That's also the case with The Internationale, although Bragg can't take credit, since most of these songs are well-known anthems. Don't Try This at Home is easily the most accessible of Bragg's albums, with love songs ("Moving the Goalposts," "You Woke Up My Neighbourhood," and, especially, "Sexuality") that are winning and witty, and issue songs ("God's Footballer," "North Sea Bubble") that suck the listener in with melody before springing their message.

Sadly, the dour William Bloke doesn't match that sense of fun (or even the wit of its title). Reaching to the Converted, a miscellany of tracks that never made it onto U.S. albums, is hardly essential, but it does include some gems, including the wry, wistful "Scholarship Is the Enemy of Romance" and a lovely cover of the McGarrigle sisters'"Heart Like a Wheel." Bragg fully returns to form with England, Half English, which matches typically impish, insightful reflections on politics (on both the interpersonal and national levels) with some of the best-realized band arrangements of Bragg's career (the reggae-inflected title tune is especially nice). Must I Paint You a Picture summarizes his career to date, compiling enough first-rate songs to leave any listener wondering why this guy isn't more famous. (J.D. CONSIDINE)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide