Lyle Lovett

As much as it probably made sense for Lyle Lovett's label to introduce him as a country artist, it was soon apparent he wasn't built for mainstream country -- not even for the '80s' "new traditionalist" flavor, despite his firmly planted roots. Still, the Texas songwriter's self-titled debut did quite well with mainstream country fans, who embraced the swinging honky-tonk of "Cowboy Man" as well as the pedal-steel waltz of "God Will," an early taste of Lovett's wry humor. And overall, the mix of country, blues, jazz, and folk makes for an impressive introduction. But on slickly produced tracks such as "You Can't Resist It" -- the sort of cheesy lite-rock that would become the coun-try music standard in years to come -- it sounds like Lovett's swimming around in a suit that just doesn't fit.

Pontiac asserts something closer to Lovett's true personality, with more consistent folk-based mate-rial that's too weird ("If I Had a Boat"), too sophisticated ("Give Me Back My Heart"), too edgy ("L.A. County"), or too smart in general for a long stay on the country charts (though it also fared surprisingly well). Dark even beyond Lovett's usual sardonic pall, Pontiac can be mildly misogynistic and disarmingly violent ("Black and Blue") -- and pretty funny as well. By the time the disc ends with its tense, unresolved title track and the goofy, more-swing-than-Western "She's Hot to Go," Lovett's tenuous connections to mainstream country are, though not discarded entirely, forever thrown into doubt.

Just what its title says, Lyle Lovett & His Large Band features over a dozen musicians -- horns and strings included. It's not quite a big band, but it swings nevertheless. In fact, the album's first half is straight swing-light jazz arrangements mixed with mannered blues, including a Clifford Brown cover ("The Blues Walk") and show-stealing vocal contributions from backup blues belter Francine Reed. Then suddenly, the pedal steel breaks in and the record reverts to more familiar fare, including an unironic cover of country standard "Stand by Your Man" and some forgettable folksy material. If it sounds schizophrenic, it is. But Lovett's strong songwriting persona -- the straight-faced weirdo looking for love -- comes through whether it's jazz ("Here I Am") or country ("I Married Her Just Because She Looks Like You").

By finally integrating his various musical impulses and moods, Lovett triumphs with Joshua Judges Ruth, his most confident and memorable recording. From the rollicking blues stride of "I've Been to Memphis" to the epic gospel hand-clapper "Church," and from the noir jazz of "All My Love Is Gone" and mournful folk of "Baltimore" to the country croon of "She's Leaving Me Because She Really Wants To," Joshua comes packed with joy and sadness, humor and heartbreak -- the tales of life and death that make it something of an Americana masterpiece.

While I Love Everybody stretches to a sprawling 18 songs, it's an altogether more modest affair. For one, the sound is more consistent and understated -- acoustic guitar, bass, drums, and strings (plus the occasional vocal quartet) etch out a sophisticated adult folk. And the material, much of it dating back to the '80s (though all previously unreleased and newly recorded) lacks the weight of its predecessor. But that's not to suggest quirky miniatures like "Skinny Legs" and "Fat Babies," or the uncharacteristically funky "Penguins," or winsome ditties like "Hello Grandma" and "Record Lady," are anything less than delightful -- or that a song like "The Fat Girl" can't be disarmingly heartbreaking, even edgy. And with the sappy title-track finale, complete with then-wife Julia Roberts' backing vocals, Lovett confounds his own misanthropic image once again.

By the time The Road to Ensenada kicked off Lovett's second decade as a recording artist, his style (and audience) had morphed so entirely that Ensenada's return to country arrangements probably sounded quite foreign to his fans. "Fiona" would fit right in among Pontiac's dark twang, and "That's Right (You're Not From Texas)" is the kind of high-energy Western swing that would've made His Large Band feel more cohesive. With one notable exception -- "Her First Mistake," a clever story-song that's more Brazilian pop than country -- Ensenada brings Lovett's career full circle.

Since Lovett has yet to follow Ensenada with an album of new, original material, the rest of the story, unfortunately, seems something like regression. On the two-CD Step Inside This House, Lovett pays tribute to the Texas (and Texas-associated) songwriters that shaped his own sensibility. While songs by Guy Clark, Townes Van Zandt, Willis Alan Ramsey, and Robert Earl Keen could be expected, others -- most notably, Steven Fromholz's 1969 "Texas Trilogy" -- are truly revelatory. The material, whether by friends and mentors or from traditional sources ("Texas River Song"), is uniformly first-rate -- in fact, the songs are uniform enough to sound like they could be Lovett's own. Except that Lovett's best writing surpasses that of his heroes -- and that's what ultimately limits Step Inside as little more than an interesting diversion.

Live in Texas features concert recordings from the summer of 1995 -- making them four years old at the time of release. The Large Band sounds sharp and supremely polished, drawing from all the original albums -- even redeeming "You Can't Resist It" with a rootsier arrangement. Unfortunately, it doesn't include any of Lovett's deadpan stage banter and stories -- things that make his concerts particularly entertaining. Dr. T & the Women is the soundtrack to a film set in Texas, by director Robert Altman (who has used Lovett as an actor in previous films). Here, Lovett and bandmates Viktor Krause (bass) and Matt Rolling (piano) compose and perform mostly instrumental music in a country and Western-swing vein. Aside from some scary incidental music, it sounds a lot like Lyle Lovett songs without words. Also included: two songs from Joshua Judges Ruth and a new, livelier version of "Ain't It Somethin' " (from I Love Everybody).

Anthology Vol. One: Cowboy Man compiles 15 songs from Lovett's first two albums, and adds two new songs (one of which, the swinging "San Antonio Girl," received a Grammy nomination). And Smile: Songs From the Movies collects 12 songs, none originals, that Lovett recorded for various film soundtracks. While Lovett's duet with Randy Newman on the Newman-penned "You've Got a Friend in Me" (from Toy Story) is plenty charming, his performances on the collection's many standards ("Straighten Up and Fly Right," "Mack the Knife," "Summer Wind") prove that, while he's a very capable singer -- particularly of his own material -- he's got no special gift as a song stylist.

When it began to appear as if Lovett's well of original material had indeed run dry, My Baby Don't Tolerate finally appeared to reaffirm the songwriter as the master of elegant country gospel blues. For fans, it's nothing they haven't heard plenty of be-fore: the sophisticated country ("Truck Song"), the winking blues ("My Baby Don't Tolerate"), the oddball vignettes ("Election Day"), the gospel echoes ("I'm Going to the Place"). But it's nice to hear that Lovett hasn't lost much of his stride so far into his run. (RONI SARIG)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide