Robert Plant and Alison Krauss, "Raising Sand" Bluegrass's best vocalist meets legendary Led Zeppelin singer. Their voices close-dance provocatively, like honey and whiskey, innocence and sin.
Trio Mediaeval, "Folk Songs" Singing folk songs of its native Norway, the classical vocal ensemble tenderly melds the raw beauty of tradition with the pristine precision of classical technique. The harmonies are both earthy and ethereal, full of chill Scandinavian darkness and the huddling warmth of a shared song.
Beoga, "Mischief" At once gentle and sly, this young quintet from County Antrim is as innovative as Celtic mavericks like Solas and Lunasa. Something about the tinkly interplay of piano and two concertinas, however, makes their revolution feel more like a wink than a wallop.
Martin Simpson, "Prodigal Son" It's not clear if Simpson intended to produce a study on the European roots of American music, but he did. One of England's finest guitarists, he moves from British ballad to juke-joint blues, Vermont lament to Appalachian banjo frolic, tracing the transatlantic veins beneath the skin of our music.
Uncle Earl, "Waterloo, Tennessee" It's hard to think of any ensemble, past or present, that so invisibly seams old and new, traditional and modern. Or has so much darn fun doing it.
Levon Helm, "Dirt Farmer" Who says trad can't boogie? Rock and Roll Hall of Famer Helm pays tribute to his Arkansas folk roots. Sinewy, snarling, pounding with furious ebullience, like Saturday night in a hard-times town.
Nerissa and Katryna Nields, "Sister Holler" Not since the McGarrigles have folk-rocking sisters aged so beautifully. They offer surefooted, oval melodies beneath lyrics full of eye-blinking imagery and mature, useful wisdom. Their harmonies have never been so hug-tight and celestial.
Woody Guthrie, "The Live Wire" Recently unearthed, this is the only complete Guthrie concert ever released. It is delightfully informal, chatty, funny, and revealing. Given that Guthrie virtually created the template for the modern singer-songwriter, this is the folkie equivalent of the Rosetta Stone.
Garnet Rogers, "Get a Witness" Coffeehouse performance requires an artful blend of candor and bravado, and no one does it better than this Canadian songwriter. On a long-awaited concert album, even his torch songs feel like tours de force, sung in a glorious bass that shimmers with danger and grace.
Mavis Staples, "We'll Never Turn Back" The queen of gospel pays exhilarating, redemptive tribute to the songs that fueled the Southern civil rights movement. Produced by Ry Cooder, the set testifies, defies, and struts for pure joy. Staples has never sounded more soulful or convincing, which is saying a lot.
Meg Baird, "Dear Companion" If you like folk ballads served up naked and open-armed, this wisp of an album is for you. Baird treats instrumentation like bug spray, to be applied only where necessary, allowing her to whisper even the most ancient lyric as if it's her own life story.
