The title and sound of 100 Miles from Memphis can’t help but recall Dusty in Memphis, Dusty Springfield’s 1969 blue-eyed soul classic, but Sheryl Crow’s 2010 album isn’t quite a strict homage to Dusty. Crow draws from many of the same ‘60s sources as Springfield, but she also dabbles in reggae (thanks to the chunky guitar of Keith Richards on “Eye to Eye”) and digs into the cool, seductive ‘70s groove of Hi, channeling Al Green on a sleek reworking of Terence Trent D’Arby’s “Sign Your Name,” complete with support from Justin Timberlake. Add to this the extended funk coda of “Roses and Moonlight,” the hippie singalong of “Long Road Home” and one of Crow’s signature good-time social-conscious raising anthems in “Say What You Want” and 100 Miles from Memphis boasts a considerably more expansive palette than Dusty in Memphis, yet it’s all bonded by its smooth, soulful groove due in part to the co-production from Doyle Bramhall II and Justin Stanley.

Unlike, say, Bon Jovi, it is no great leap for Sheryl Crow to plunge into contemporary country on Feels Like Home. Tuesday Night Music Club, her 1993 debut, could've been called country-rock if it had been released in another era, and she's never shied away from roots music, either giving it a crisp, classy spin or taking a full stylistic detour, as she did on 2010's 100 Miles from Memphis. In some ways, that soul excursion felt like a greater departure for Crow than this 2013 album, as beneath the down-home accouterments of aggressive Telecasters, self-consciously country lyrics, the affected down-home twang in her voice, and the occasional fiddle, Feels Like Home feels like standard-issue Crow, the kind of record that could've been delivered after The Globe Sessions.

Eric Clapton, one of the world's outstanding blues/rock guitarists, once again assembled an all-star team of six-string heroes for his fifth Crossroads Guitar Festival in 2019. Organized at the American Airlines Center in Dallas, Texas, the two-day concert event raised funds for the Crossroads Centre in Antigua, the therapy facility for alcohol and drug addicts founded by Clapton in 1998. After a six-year hiatus, the festival returned with new energy and outstanding performances, including performances by James Bay, Jeff Beck, Doyle Bramhall II, Gary Clark Jr, Robert Cray, Sheryl Crow, Andy Fairweather Low, Peter Frampton, Vince Gill, Buddy Guy, Sonny Landreth, Lianne La Havas, Los Lobos, John Mayer, Keb' Mo', Bonnie Raitt, Robert Randolph, Tedeschi Trucks Band, Jimmie Vaughan and others…

This album purports to be an attempt at recursion by the creator of The X-Files, Chris Carter – songs inspired by the show that he hopes will provide further inspiration for the show (just as Nick Cave's "Red Right Hand" did for the "Ascension" episode.) Contributions here include Mark Snow, with the title music, the Foo Fighters with a grand rendition of Gary Numan's "Down in the Park" (Numan's songs would fit this show perfectly), Sheryl Crow, Frank Black, Filter (who abandon their roaring faux-NIN sound for moody acoustic guitars), Meat Puppets, Elvis Costello with Brian Eno and even Screamin' Jay Hawkins. While not perfect, the album makes a nice alternative compilation, one that has that blue-light glow of twisted mystery X-ficianados have come to enjoy.

Like 1999's tribute to Gram Parsons, Return of the Grievous Angel, this successful collection revives the tired "tribute" concept and applies it in homage to a key figure in country music. Interpreting songs from across Hank Williams's short and troubled career, a range of high-profile artists use different approaches with equally gratifying results. Tom Petty, Sheryl Crow, and Hank Williams III play familiar songs with traditional arrangements (Ms. Crow's yodel is an eye opener); Beck, Mark Knopfler, and Keb' Mo' stay closer to their own idioms. Keith Richards's reedy vocal makes "You Win Again" all his own, and Bob Dylan, who has only rarely lent his services to these sorts of projects, leads his touring band through a blues shuffle on "I Can't Get You Off of My Mind." The estimable Lost Highway label has assembled an illustrious cast to sing the praises of the artist who inspired its name, and in doing so it has created a far better testament to its musical mindset than can ever be captured in the term Americana.