One moment on 'If There was a Way,' Dwight Yoakam's fifth album, is capable of redeeming all of the singer's Hollywood Cowboy mannerisms. "The Heart That You Own," the album's second track, is a graceful, sad two-step, complete with fiddles that could have been sampled from a Bob Wills record. "I pay rent on a run-down place," Yoakam sings. "There ain't no view, but there's lots of space in my heart." When he hits the word space, his voice catches and dips into a deep Merle Haggard sigh. For once, Yoakam sounds less like a contestant in the New Hank Williams Contest at the mall and more like a lonely songwriter who's living the lyrics he's singing.

If There Was a Way actually has many such moments – which, given the formulas involved, is a minor miracle. As on Yoakam's previous albums, guitarist Pete Anderson produced, and most of the same musicians contribute the same floor-scuffing honky-tonk. But for reasons having to do with Yoakam's strongly defined image and Anderson's unpredictable tastes, Yoakam has avoided the creative rut that has trapped fellow New Traditionalists like George Strait and the Judds. The usual elements – the Hatted One's square-jawed delivery, the hard 4/4 beats, Anderson's own truck-stop guitar licks – fuel songs like "Nothing's Changed Here," "The Distance Between You and Me" and the dark, rumbling title track. But there's nothing freeze-dried about the songs or the performances; they're loose and vibrant, albeit cleanly recorded and perfectly phrased.

Yoakam and Anderson take chances and get away with them. By all rights, the sweepingly orchestrated "You're the One" – with its shades of Glen Campbell's "Wichita Lineman"-era glory days – should be pure corn. But in Yoakam's rendering, it turns out to be touching – much more so, for example, than the album's inevitable duet, this time with the bland Patty Loveless on "Send a Message to My Heart." Yoakam still sounds uncomfortable with rock, but his "Takes a Lot to Rock You" and a boogaloo remake of "Let's Work Together" stomp hard, thanks largely to Skip Edwards's boogie piano.

Yoakam has homework to do. His workmanlike songwriting lacks the idiosyncratic twists of his heroes. His sullenloner persona also dampens the inherent humor in a song like the rueful "It Only Hurts When I Cry" (co-written with Roger Miller), which sounds joyless despite its campy, countrypolitan sound. But the bulk of If There Was a Way proves that for all his failings, Dwight Yoakam still has his heart in the right lonely place. (RS 592)

DAVID BROWNE