It's been five years since her last studio album and, with the passage of time, one-time folk waif Suzanne Vega has become a world-wise, world-class diva. After the technological experiments of 99.9° and the transitional Nine Objects of Desire, it might be an overstatement to assert that Vega has returned to her folk roots here, yet there's definitely a more organic vibe to Songs In Red and Gray. Acoustic guitar and Vega's subtly expansive vocal range drive the lightly orchestrated "Penitent," while mandolin underpins "Maggie May" -- not Rod Stewart's moldy oldie, but an answer song that turns on the knowing line, "I'll never be your Maggie May/The one you loved and left behind." Sure, Vega makes songs for the aged, (more kindly known as the "adult alternative" set) but with her experience she brings an understanding of melody and sentiment that her younger sisters in singer-songwriterdom simply aren't yet capable of matching. Forging on, may she serve as an inspiration to them all. (DENISE SULLIVAN)

Jay Farrar Sebastopol (Fellow Guard/Artemis) On his first solo album, Jay Farrar ventures a bit beyond the rustic string-band approach that made Americana pioneers of his old groups, Son Volt and Uncle Tupelo. There's nary a former band mate in sight; instead, the likes of Flaming Lips' Steven Drozd join him in fleshing out this varied lot of songs. You'll hear everything from sitar noise on "Prelude (Make It Alright)" to big, gonging bells on the grandly assertive "Clear Day Thunder." At the same time, Farrar remains grounded in the loamy soil of alt-folk, and these fourteen numbers cohere around his woozy, grainy voice -- think Gene Clark and Michael Stipe -- and sturdy acoustic strumming, which leads the charge on the chiming, melancholy "Voodoo Candle." He sings in elliptical riddles, dryly delivering lines like "Smoke beats water anyhow" ("Damn Shame") and "Glycerine time is a privilege earned" ("Damaged Son") as if they make perfect sense. And, in a way, they do. (PARKE PUTERBAUGH)

Tenacious D Tenacious D (Epic)

Every metal generation sees a new team of high priests take over the Temple of Syrinx, and now is the hour of Tenacious D, standing tall on rock's Mount Olympus with their acoustic guitars and a songbook full of pure stoner poetry. Jack Black and Kyle Gass are the twin visionaries here: two sloppy dudes strumming and wailing the hysterically funny Seventies faux-metal ballads that have already made Tenacious D legendary for their L.A. club gigs as well as their short-lived HBO series (You've also seen Black onscreen as the loudmouthed record clerk in High Fidelity.) The D's long-awaited debut album is an angel-dustrial bong-water brew of Styx, Rush and Triumph, with a dollop of Journey, a soupáon of Kansas, loads of Zep and Sabbath, a pinch of Black Oak Arkansas, maybe a dash of the Ozark Mountain Daredevils. Not since Bob and Doug McKenzie have two jokers nailed the clod-metal aesthetic so accurately: Nearly every lyric here comes straight from your high school's bathroom wall.

Tenacious D sounds like it was bashed out in one dazed and confused all-nighter, with musical help from famous pals such as Foo Fighters' Dave Grohl, Phish's Page McConnell and producers the Dust Brothers. But what makes the D such noble warriors is their mastery of every Seventies-rock cliche, from the Skynyrd-esque groupie-chasing boogie "The Road" to the perfect Steve Howe-style guitar filigree in the middle of "Rock Your Socks." You also get the best song ever written about Ronnie James Dio ("Dio"), the best song ever written about kielbasa ("Kielbasa"), tormented battle-of-evermore prog narratives such as "Wonderboy" and "Tribute," and the for-lovers-only acoustic ballad "Fuck Her Gently," where Black adopts his most sensitive Steve Perry voice to charm the ladies with sweet nothings like "I'm gonna hump you sweetly/I'm gonna ball you discreetly."

Tenacious D are more than rock stars, much more: They're the Thor and Zeus of a new rock religion, prophets of blood and honor, overlords from the land of the ice and snow. They ask no quarter. They give no quarter. They are the D. (ROB SHEFFIELD)

Billy Bob Thornton Private Radio (Lost Highway)

What kind of redneck wears pink panties and listens to Merle Haggard? According to his solo debut, Private Radio, Billy Bob Thornton does. The album's second track, "Forever," also finds him sitting at a Waffle House -- the holy pit stop of all road dogs -- in Texarkana, promising his girl in a deep, psychotic murmur that "the only thing standing between me and you now is 200 miles and a donut tire." This isn't some one-off vanity project, though; the "hillbilly Orson Welles" was a professional drummer and singer before he became an Academy Award winner. Produced by country star Marty Stuart, who co-wrote many of these story songs with Thornton (and adds guitar jangle to a decent cover of the Byrds' "He Was a Friend of Mine"), Private Radio is a pleasing Southern Gothic exploration in mid-tempo twang, bad-boy rockabilly revelries and dark balladry. Thornton is better when speak-singing ("Beauty at the Back Door") and whisper-singing ("Starlight Lounge") than sing-singing, delivering his lines like an actor rather than a singer, but delivering them convincingly. He treads some picked-over territory ("Walk of Shame"), and tosses off a few gooey lyrics worthy of country-pop cheese (you guessed it: "Angelina"). But hey -- it beats the hell out of anything Kevin Bacon and Russell Crowe have ever done. (MEREDITH OCHS)

King's X Manic Moonlight (Metal Blade)

This power trio has resolutely followed its own unique path for nearly twenty years, consistently concocting air-tight, inventive music that falls into an odd-shaped territory bounded by Primus, Prince and Judas Priest. Its ninth album is no exception, rife as it is with ballads that are tender -- but never mushy -- and upbeat selections that are relentlessly dynamic. "Static" evolves out of a repeated ostinato (a la Ravel's "Bolero") and a cryptic, mantra-like lyric, and "Vegetable" simmers with all the spare, funky verve of vintage Sly Stone. Singer/bassist Doug Pinnick could give Rush frontman Geddy Lee a run for his money when it comes to low-end fretwork, and he certainly packs more soulful vocals. Drummer Jerry Gaskill nails the grooves in place with precise timing and Ty Tabor unleashes squalls of sizzling, slithery guitar work. Layers of percussion and effects add zest to the mix (courtesy of Tabor, who produced this effort) but ultimately it's the musical muscle behind it that makes Moonlight glow. (SANDY MASUO)

Four Tet Pause (Domino)

This sweet record begins with the chattering sounds of typewriters dancing with tap shoes. A silvery jumble of acoustic guitars falls over this found sound parade, followed by a sloppy, cymbal-smashing rock beat, thus setting the tone for Pause. Producing dance-friendly sounds similar to those of fellow U.K. sample jockeys Lemon Jelly, Four Tet combine the organic nostalgia of British folk with bustling big beats and warm found sound trinkets. With a nod to the ambient acoustica of Brian Eno's latest, Drawn From Life, Pause is comforting and melodious, a shimmering record that unlike some dance music fodder, never takes itself too seriously. As influenced by British folk icons Pentangle as Missy Elliott, Four Tet drop lush finger-picking over tribal beats ("You Could Ruin My Day"), and "Scarborough Fair"-style melodies over rambling post rock rhythms ("Glue Of The World"). A twinkling pause that refreshes. (KEN MICALLEF)

Chely Wright Never Love You Enough (MCA Nashville)

Since winning the Academy of Country Music's Top New Female Vocalist trophy in 1994, Chely Wright's star has ascended steadily, culminating in her breakthrough album, Single White Female. With its follow-up, Never Love You Enough, Wright seems poised to move to the next level, both commercially and artistically. Yes, the title track, with guitar-heavy production and love-you-forever lyrics, veers dangerously close to crossover territory -- but the rest of the material, much of which Wright either wrote or co-wrote, keeps her country cred in good standing. In mature, finely detailed songs like "One Night in Las Vegas" and "The Long Run," Wright examines unmistakably adult relationships, and all the doubts, dilemmas and disappointments that go along with them. When she stretches sonically, as in the trip-hop/bluegrass "Jezebel" or the oddly atmospheric "Deep Down Low," the themes are pure country -- as in cheatin' men and misery. If Wright isn't a member of country's A-list now, Never Love You Enough offers a dozen compelling reasons why she should be. (ANDREA DRESDALE)

Soulstance Truth, Simplicity & Love (Shakti)

This is one of those CDs that, played in the background, begs the question, 'Who is this?' You have no choice but to investigate the beauty of Soulstance, a production duo made up of brothers Gianni and Enzo Lo Greco. They may not yet boast the notoriety of a team like Jazzanova, but on the instrumental "Kickin' Samba," Soulstance's incredible display of soul-cum-electronica raises the humidity with similarly pulsating samba rhythms. Rusty horn sections and signature-styled bass lines also throw you into a real carnival, making their North American debut a worthwhile wait since their initial 1985 Italian recordings. All these instrumentals warm the heart, and, with the right company around you, other jazzy mid-tempo songs of seduction such as "Riding the Mumbo" and "Inspiration By Antonio Carlos" will even set the mood. While all the rhythmic arrangements of the drumming and percussion works are Gianni's, brother Enzo's expertise is in playing the six-string electric, fretless, double bass and somehow spiritualizing each track with gently sai ling flute melodies throughout, sometimes even adding vocal harmonies over tunes like "Circle" and "Touchstone." But on their titled track, it's hard to even imagine an instrumental without a lyrical message, can still be so definitive in relaying exactly that feel of Truth, Simplicity and Love. (MARLON REGIS)

The Be Good Tanyas Blue Horse (Nettwerk America)

You're whistling "Dixie" as you push your wheelbarrow down a rutted country lane: Suddenly a steamy summer downpour drenches you to the bone and makes you run for shelter --where the sound of the Be Good Tanyas would make for an ideal welcome. On its debut, this all-female British Columbia trio, much like kindred new traditionalist spirits like Gillian Welch, explores a carefully chosen selection of deep country, early American folk, lonesome blues and soul. The Tanyas proffer both original tunes and new, surprising arrangements of old-time ballads such as the Creole classic, "Lakes of Pontchartrain." Down-homey banjo licks skip around deep-woods harmonies, while finger-picked guitar and mandolin contradance with sultry fiddle and bass. Head for the barn and listen to this album as you roll in the hay. (ROBIN AIGNER)

Los Straitjackets Sing Along With Los Straitjackets (Yep Roc)

The masked Nashville outfit Los Straitjackets have always been thought of as an instrumental surf-rock combo, but with their fifth album, the quartet is ready to do away with that tag. Joined by a cadre of talented vocalists -- including the Mavericks' Raul Malo, Sixpence None the Richer's Leigh Nash, ex-X frontwoman Exene Cervenka and loungeabilly freak The Reverend Horton Heat -- Los Straitjackets inject a diverse range of voices into their guitar-led assault. They also expand their sonic horizons, veering away from the strict Link Wray/Ventures surf-twang sound of their previous releases towards soul ("Treat Her Right"), Western swing ("I'll Go Down Swinging"), classic pop ("The End of the World") and Fifties greaser-rock ("Chica Albortada"). It all feels a little backwards-looking, but tight, heartfelt performances -- most notably, country siren Allison Moorer's stunning Aretha-fied take on "I Ain't the One," a song popularized by Waylon Jennings -- make their retro take not only tolerable, but winning. (DAVID PEISNER)

(September 24, 2001)