If a savvy TV producer has been kicking around the notion of a VH1 "Divas Live"-style tribute to Emmylou Harris, this spring would be an ideal time for it. Harris' influence looms large over countless new releases, from albums by chart-topper Norah Jones to cult favorites Jesse Sykes & the Sweet Hereafter and Elizabeth Cook -- all of whom have distinctive voices and original songwriting styles that bear a distinct but original country element. At the front of this pack are three artists returning with some of the boldest statements of their careers: Mary Chapin Carpenter, Lucinda Williams and Patty Griffin.

View photos of Lucinda Williams, Mary Chapin Carpenter and Patty Griffin

Like Harris, these women are innovators who refuse to be strictly defined by any one genre. And yet, by virtue of their achievements as composers, recording artists, or both, all three command the respect of Music City. They also offer a powerful antidote to a popular culture fixated on youth and obvious sexuality. But to suggest that they all sound alike (or that they all sound like Emmylou Harris) would be a disservice to all three (or, indeed, all four). Each stands alone as a vital artist; their uniqueness within the loose boundaries of "country" is what ties them together.

Of the trio, Carpenter is best known in mainstream country circles, thanks to big hits such as "He Thinks He'll Keep Her" and "Down at the Twist and Shout," as well as her cover of Williams' "Passionate Kisses." However, Carpenter got her start in folk music, and politics remain central to her identity. She has performed with Harris at concerts for Campaign for a Landmine-Free World, as well as for troops overseas and at benefits supporting cancer and AIDS research.

Pointed opinions about current events figure prominently on "The Calling," Carpenter's ninth album. The confrontational "On With the Song" roars with surprisingly ferocious guitars, and its lyric praises individuals that stand their ground, while eviscerating President Bush with nervy wit. The piano-based "Houston" addresses the plight of Hurricane Katrina refugees. Her often prickly sentiments come wrapped in rousing choruses.

As its title implies, "The Calling" also addresses issues of faith, but with an open mind; Buddha, Allah and God share equal weight in the chorus of the robust "Why Shouldn't We." The higher power she addresses in her deep, resonant voice on the title track might just as easily be an aesthetic as a specific religious belief. Even when her focus turns to more personal fare, as on the darker "Leaving Song," there is a pervasive sense that Carpenter is very much in the world, not just moving through it.

Carpenter is a versatile singer; on "Twilight," she applies three or four different vocal colors to just that simple two-syllable word. But when it comes to distinctive singing, Lucinda Williams has her beat. On her latest release, "West," Williams joins forces with innovative producer Hal Willner, a partnership ideal for those pipes. Just as he did with Marianne Faithfull on her album "Strange Weather," Willner crafts atmospheric arrangements -- including, once again, contributions from avant-garde guitarist Bill Frisell -- that put Williams' evocative, gravelly voice front and center.

Like Faithfull's 1987 landmark, "West" rings with songs of a life hard lived. In the interim before making the record, Williams endured both the death of her mother and what she has described as "a very tumultuous relationship that ended badly." The former loss factors into "Mama You Sweet," with its almost chant-like simplicity, and the philosophical "Fancy Funeral," which counters images of floral tributes and gleaming hearses by tabulating their expense, could pass for a Great Depression-era classic.

Yet it is romantic love -- gone wrong, right or just away -- that forms the core of "West." On the vulnerable "Everything Has Changed" and "Learning How to Live," the spent-sounding Williams reminds listeners that the most touching sentiments are often articulated by voices hardly considered conventionally pretty (witness Bob Dylan or the Carter Family).

The album opener "Are You Alright?" suggests that, in the midst of her rough patch, she wrote the words she wished others around her would say. This record demands almost as much from the listener as it gives back in return. But for all its strengths, "West" is less than perfect. A preponderance of achingly slow tempos makes the album feel even longer than its 68 minutes, and the unvarnished sentiments of angry rocker "Come On" don't measure up to the rest of the lyrics.

Patty Griffin could easily live off songwriting paychecks alone; her originals have been cut by the Dixie Chicks, Reba McEntire and, yes, Emmylou Harris. Fortunately, Griffin is more ambitious than that. She has talent to burn as both a vocalist and songwriter, but her career has often lacked of a clear direction. On her fifth full-length release, "Children Running Through," she has no such problems. She tears up the blazing kiss-off ditty "Getting Ready," then spins into the gauzy, impressionist vignette "Burgundy Shoes" without pausing to catch a breath.

Griffin embraces a wide range of styles, from the jazzy opener, "You'll Remember," and the gospel blues of "Up to the Mountain" (which R&B great Solomon Burke recently covered on his country album, "Nashville"), to the stark, minor key cipher "Someone Else's Tomorrow." "Children Running Through" is such a consistently engaging affair, it seems risky to isolate a single song for praise, but "Trapeze," with its tale of circus performer suspended -- in midair as in life -- stands out in Griffin's already formidable catalog. And who is that singing in the background, enriching Griffin's warm vocals? Why, Emmylou Harris, of course. It's not the sound of one artist passing the torch to another, but of two equals warmed by tending the same flame and sharing the glow.

Leave a comment on the blog | Send us an email