More than thirty years ago, Mary Chapin-Carpenter showed that it was possible to marry traditional country music to politics--personal and otherwise. India Ramey channels that, and just like Chapin-Carpenter she doesn't name names. She prefers to speak in metaphor. Not that there's any question as to her intent. Give "Debutante Ball" a whirl to see what I mean.

India Ramey Shallow Graves (self-released)

Ramey often travels along the Neil Young/Dwight Yoakam axis. There's a bit if distortion here and there, and there are also some lovely, tighly-spun twangy vocal runs. She's not really a throwback, but she sure doesn't mind borrowing from the giants of the past.

Is this rock? Country? Americana? Nashville gave up on those distinctions a thousand years ago, and I think we can dispense with them as well--though there is pitch-perfect americana and also stuff that would horrify certain fans of the genre. Which is as it should be, I think.

Going back to my turn-of-the-millennium N.C. days, it could also be said that Ramey travels along the Tift Merritt/Trailer Bride axis. Ramey is a master of the light and the dark, and her best songs are when she lets them comingle. A stirring set.

Jon Worley