If ever there were an opportune time for J.J. Cale to widen his cult following, this is it. Since the release of Cale's last album, Troubadour, way back in 1976, both Eric Clapton and Dire Straits have hit commercial pay dirt with music that was strongly influenced by the artist's sleepy-time vocal delivery and distinctive guitar style. Though 5 isn't likely to do much serious chart climbing of its own, it's a big improvement over most of Cale's efforts and occasionally reaches the heights of his first and best LP, Naturally.

Actually, the title of that record says much about the difference in approach between Cale and his famous followers. Whereas Dire Straits and Clapton have adopted their respective laid-back styles with a certain degree of self-consciousness, J.J. Cale's almost painfully relaxed approach seems to flow like molasses from his unassuming, self-effacing personality. On 5, you can barely hear what he's singing half the time, but the effect is well won. The tender, seductive charm of his finest songs grows with increased listenings, while his sinuous, supremely economical playing—which smoothly incorporates jazz, blues and rockabilly—gains in emphasis.

5's high points are the simmering, sensuous "Boilin' Pot" and "Fate of a Fool," an affecting tune about a weary honky-tonk singer (Cale?) facing an uncertain future. "One more night/One more dollar," he whispers. "One more song/Can you do it again?"

For the most part, the production by Cale and longtime Nashville associate Audie Ashworth is appropriately spare—at times, they go with no more than guitar, bass and vocals — though "Sensitive Kind" is encumbered with strings and horns. But that's J.J. Cale's only lapse in good taste. His craftsmanship, directness and earthy appeal make up for his lack of ambition. 5 may not shake anyone's timbers, but it's a good friend to have around on a long, lonesome night. (RS 302)

LLOYD SACHS