Jim Lauderdale strikes a balance between pop hooks, rock grooves, and twangy traditionalism as neatly as any country artist in Nashville. Whether he's leaning hard on his guitar or pulling back into gentle introspection, his genuine honky-tonk heart is at the core of so many of the songs on The Hummingbirds. Witness the pedal steel ladled all over "Morning" and "Let's Not Say It's Over," for instance, or the hoedown fiddlin' that fuels the busy, bluegrass-flavored "New Cascade." At the same time, Lauderdale's music maintains a crisp, contemporary edge – he shows no fear latching onto the bouncy melody of "It's a Trap," encouraging the boldness of "Midnight Will Become Day" (which features vocal assistance from Emmylou Harris and Julie Miller), or settling into the rugged, bar-band groove of the thick-legged "Rollin' the Dice."

Lauderdale is one of the hardest-working guys in Nashville. With the release of The Hummingbirds, his current label is only catching up to him – he recorded it a year ago but then cut last year's The Other Sessions and released that first. Hummingbirds is in the same ballpark as that thick, hearty twangfest. Songs like "There and Back Again," the sarcastically toned "It's Worth Looking Up" (lyrically upbeat but melodically bitter), and "I'm Happiest When I'm Moving" – ironically slowed down – show Lauderdale entirely at ease with his material. His voice isn't flashy, depending instead on an everyman charm and loads of melodic control – the way he wrings feeling from each word of the gentle "Morning" or curlicued chorus of "I Know Better Now" shows talent few singers can boast.

Lauderdale's vocal style, tone, and the production as a whole lack (thankfully) the slickness of many contemporary recordings, one reason why he's yet to top the charts himself. Nevertheless, he's well respected in Nashville and, apparently, able to record and release records when he feels like it. His work, which resonates with a soulfulness that is impossible to fake, gains depth with time. Jim Lauderdale plays with Junior Brown Thurs/6, Slim's, S.F. (415) 522-0333. (Kurt Wolff)

764-HERO
Nobody Knows This Is Everywhere (Tiger Style)

As the title seems to imply, this recording sounds like any other indie rock album. It's reassuringly anonymous, full of sing-along choruses and self-conscious melodies that should have everyone bobbing – but not dancing, of course – in time to the beat. On the opening track, "Oceanbound," John Atkins's guitar rings as loud and clear as current rock star John Mayer's does on "No Such Thing," while his lyrics are intriguingly obscure. "Have you ever been alright?" he asks, then murmurs words so low I could barely make them out.

The situation conveyed during "Oceanbound" 's three and a half minutes is more complex than run-of-the-mill love-hate relationships mined by corporate rockers like Mayer. Atkins sings about a strained conversation with someone who says they're about to leave but never does; he finally ends the dialogue with "Caught in the act / Of wanting it back / But still you'd never admit to that / Heard about you / What would you say if I knew / Everything was true?" The lines could mean anything – catching your girlfriend in a lie, confirming a malicious rumor about a best friend – but its power comes from the listener's imagination. It could be anything.

All the songs on Nobody Knows This Is Everywhere are like that, mini-soap operas about disgruntled people sitting around not talking – where the slightest gesture speaks volumes. On "Answers," Atkins sings, "You hang out on the weekend / Try to sort it out / Everyone's looking so low and gone / Everything's the same." It's an accusation, sure, but it's not meant to wake you up. He sings, "Everybody's looking for the answer / But you won't find anything here." Still, part of the album's charm is listening to 764-HERO put to music emotions you can't put into words. (Mosi Reeves)

Various artists
Rewind! (Ubiquity)

Cover songs often spell disaster. If a song is good enough to be memorable, the original tends to expose the shortcomings of any new versions. So I checked out Ubiquity's collection of "original classics – re-worked, re-mixed, and rewound" with a healthy amount of skepticism. But hey, you've got to at least give a listen to any album that features the Shinehead cover of "Billy Jean."

It starts with Open Door's ultra-laid back version of Pink Floyd's "Breathe." Wow. Just the right mix of saving the best of the old, draping it over a new shuffling snare, and letting the overall vibe come from the same place but take you somewhere new. Besides being the perfect accompaniment to late spring days that stretch the light and bring with them the promise of summer, Open Door could give lessons in respect for the original. At the other end of the spectrum we have U.K. dub masters Rockers Hi-Fi tackling Ella Fitzgerald's take on Cream's "Sunshine of Your Love," starting slowly with the vocal and then heading straight for left-field and bossa craziness, ending up with a great song that, barring the lyrics, has virtually nothing to do with the original. And then there's "Billy Jean," a pretty perfect pop song, but Shinehead pulls off his dancehall version and even delivers a "Whooo!" that's worthy of an invitation to Liza Minnelli's next wedding.

Ubiquity made the wise decision to leaven the bizarre matchups with covers of lesser-known tracks, including two funky treats from Yesterday's New Quintet (a.k.a. Madlib) and a pair of Jack Constanzo Latin sweets via Jazztronik and As One. Except for the lengthy and uninspired stab Beatless takes at Aaron Neville's "Hercules," it's all nicely weird and wonderful. (Peter Nicholson)

William Parker Quartet
Raining on the Moon (Thirsty Ear)

William Parker has substantiated his reputation as the foremost American avant-garde bassist – on paper (through his work with an array of artists including Ed Blackwell, Cecil Taylor, and David S. Ware) and with his real-time improvisatory inventions. But his urgent forward momentum doesn't stop him from putting his newest music solidly in the post-bop, socially conscious pocket stitched 40 years ago by Charles Mingus and Max Roach. Raining on the Moon, Parker's latest addition to Thirsty Ear's increasingly impressive Blues Series, is song-based jazz with folktale roots.

He is working again with alto saxophonist-flutist Rob Brown, trumpeter Lewis Barnes, and drummer-percussionist Hamid Drake (the quartet previously recorded O'Neal's Porch for Centering Music) and brings in Texas-born singer Leena Conquest to give voice to his poetry on six of the eight tracks. Not a jazz singer in the same sense as Abbey Lincoln, Conquest nonetheless applies a keen sense of off-center phrasing and soulful inflection to Parker's engaging melodies and lyrics.