SWEATER SONGS: M. Ward's latest transmissions arrive
via Transistor Radio.

These days the proliferation of Internet radio (not to mention the fact that I eventually gained the sense to carry an iPod) makes it all too easy to attribute better broadcast options to technology. But a quick glance at mainstream stations' playlists serves as a simple reminder: most DJs have no choice but to play what they're told, and boy howdy, there are some scary people buying time on the airwaves. But radio wasn't always this way. Guitarist M. Ward ("M" is for Matt) recently recalled his childhood over the phone from a hideout amid a New York snowstorm. His own long car rides meant developing a taste for independent radio stations and DJs who "use radio power in the way that it's supposed to be used – playing the songs they love – and not because they're getting paid to play them."

Ward's fourth and newest album, Transistor Radio (Merge), pays tribute to this dying art, harking back to scattered musical moods of the 20th century that were once accessible with a turn of a dial. The effect is a warm echo of simpler times when – if Norman Rockwell doesn't lie – the family would convene for an evening broadcast instead of retreating to the solitude of cable TV in every bedroom.

On his latest feat of acoustic wizardry, the singer-songwriter – once based in the Bay Area and now living in Portland, Ore. – intersperses his timeless originals with revisions of classics by such diverse artists as Louis Armstrong, the Beach Boys, the Carter Family, and even J.S. Bach, but the general tone isn't an affectation pegged to any single time period or style. The Beach Boys and Bach selections ("You Still Believe in Me" and "The Well-Tempered Clavier," respectively) bookend the album as acoustic guitar intro and outro, respectively, easing into and out of the main content of the CD. Ward seems to want to lull the listener to sleep so that he or she might come unstuck in time with lucid visions of driving down country back roads. With the help of My Morning Jacket frontperson Jim James and an echo effect, the eerie vocal harmonies on the second track, "One Life Away," seem like the voices of long-dead rocking-chair crooners drifting across space.

A fair number of upbeat pieces liven the pace of the album and flesh out its anachronistic scope as well. Doo-wop piano rocker "Big Boat" brings Rilo Kiley's Jenny Lewis on board for a twinge of 1950s rockabilly, and with its frenetic lyrics, insomniac freakout "Four Hours in Washington" could just as easily be the work of Ward's frequent tourmate Conor Oberst. The following track, "Paul's Song," introduces a country flavor with waves of pedal steel, and late in the album, 1960s-style folk ballad "I'll Be Yr Bird" spotlights Ward's signature croon, a raspy tenor often compared to Tom Waits's, despite its being fuzzy and warm as if left in the dryer too long.

Tranquil as he often seems, however, Ward is anything but idle. A rigorous touring schedule has assured that, sepia-tinted or not, Radio will appeal to easy-listening fans and teenage emo rockers alike, as was the case with Ward's last two albums, End of Amnesia (Future Farmer, 2001) and The Transfiguration of Vincent (Merge, 2003). New as Radio is, Ward is already hard at work compiling his next effort, a tribute to his idol John Fahey. Slated for a fall release on Vanguard Records, the album boasts the likes of Devendra Banhart, Grandaddy, and Calexico, among others.

Last spring's Songwriters Tour with Oberst and James banded the three together as co-headliners for a 10-date tour, on which they blurred the lines between their individual sets by collaborating on each other's songs and finally performing as a trio. Fraternizing with even more indie rock stars at last year's Coachella and Vote for Change, as well as this year's South by Southwest, has further solidified his following among the young 'uns. But it's still not too late for the agoraphobics among us to catch Ward in an intimate venue: his tour with alt-country band Norfolk and Western stops at the Great American Music Hall this Thursday.

Ward takes pride in his ability to play with any type of band, for any type of audience, and in the fact that "there's not a specific era that the record sounds like." Thanks to this nebulous approach to genre categorization, he plays among a "community of friends" rather than a "scene," since the artists within it aren't bound to a uniform style.

"They're bringing an element of chaos that you can't re-create in the studio," Ward said. "There's not a button you can push to get that Jim James sound.... It's always something unexpected." And in the spirit of the eclecticism found on the radio shows Ward treasured as a child, this means there are always surprises in store – all of them pleasant ones. M. Ward plays Thurs/24, 8 p.m., Great American Music Hall, 859 O'Farrell, S.F. $15. (415)885-0750.

To purchase the music featured in this article, visit iTunes:

1. M. Ward, Transistor Radio (Merge)

2. M. Ward, The Transfiguration of Vincent (Merge)