Kelly Joe Phelps: Shine Eyed Mister Zen (Rykodisc)

BY themselves, the opening and closing tracks of this intense exercise in acoustic guitar technique and brooding performance would represent value for money. Phelps's version of the traditional House Carpenter turns the song from a predictable workout into a passion play of hair-raising bottleneck notes and doom-laden vocals; and then this American blues guitarist with a penchant for crossing genres kisses listeners goodbye with a remarkable version of Leadbelly's Goodnight Irene, revisiting the song as a soft, pleading cry from the heart, shaking the crudeness from the song but giving it a new dignity. In between he rakes over the coals of his folk, jazz, blues and gospel influences to varying effect; the playing and hushed vocals are superb, though some of the songs could be stronger.

Joe Breen

Loudon Wainwright III: Social Studies (Hannibal)

Such has been Loudon's intense navel-gazing over recent albums - most of it seriously rewarding, it should be noted - that some could be forgiven for forgetting his brilliance at social commentary. Not your average deep and meaningless guff, full of well-meaning empty phrases. No, sir. When Loudon takes a whip to a person, event or situation he likes to hear it crack. Not so that blood will spill, mind you: he plays it for laughs, and the hope of providing some little insight. So Y2K, Bill and Hill, O.J. Simpson and Santa are among the stars in these little slices of everyday life, mostly commissioned by an American PBS show. The humour is cutting, if not savage, and the tunes are pleasant, if rarely memorable. It's an awareness package that will raise a smile or six. And that can't be bad.

Joe Breen