Gob Iron (slang for harmonica in British folk circles) is a band formed by Uncle Tupelo's Jay Farrar and Varnaline's Anders Parker. The 10 songs here were actually recorded in a five day slug (postponing the recording of the new Son Volt album), and are mostly traditional folk songs, extensively rewritten on the fly, and are accompanied by nine short instrumentals. Jay Farrar has never been a smile-a-minute, and the theme running through all of the songs is one of death, something they realised after the recording. So, this isn't a happy album, but what it is is a wonderfully resonant hard-edged blues-folk take on alt.country. Farrar's Uncle Tupelo always had an authenticity that Jeff Tweedy lacked, and Gob Iron is a world away from Wilco. Its feel is like a hand-worn chisel, sharp and comforting, the two voices full of soul and sincerity - good earnest craft built on, and respecting, an American tradition. The album also contains a Jay Farrar original, Buzz and Grind, which fits in seamlessly. One to seek out.

ACE rating 8/10

Even being extremely lenient, it would be hard to claim that Rickie Lee Jones has done much that's essential since Flying Cowboys in 1989 (and possibly even her 1979 self-titled debut). However, The Sermon is a remarkable piece of work. In 2005, Jones was invited to take part in her friend Lee Cantelon's music version of his book The Words, a modern re-working of the teachings of Jesus Christ. Jones instead chose to improvise a vocal and lyric, and here we are. Clearly enjoying the framework around which to improvise, Jones here adopts a raw, direct sound and a confessional style, over some wonderfully hypnotic melodies. It's not perfect - the material seems too much for her on songs such as Lamp Of the Body and Donkey Ride, but It Hurts, Falling Up and 7th Day more than make up. Circle in the Sand was recorded for the soundtrack to the film Friends With Money and is the poppiest she has been in a long time. The subject matter doesn't immediately suggest accessibility, but this is a very strong return to Flying Cowboys form.

ACE rating 7/10

Don't, for one minute, get wrapped up in the emotion of a new album by the band who made Horse With No Name and Ventura Highway 30 years ago. Solely redeemed by the included disc of their hits played live, the 12 new songs are awful enough to make you check the cover to check it is, indeed, the right band, and not some bargain-bin boy band from Basingstoke. The strange thing is just how many modern musicians lent their 'talents' to producing or playing on this album - from Fountains of Wayne's Adam Schelesinger and Smashing Pumpkins' James Iha's production, to Ryan Adams, My Morning Jacket, Nada Surf, there really are all of the ingredients to make this work. However, despite the press release hype, Dewey Bunnell and Gerry Beckley clearly spent too long out of the rain in that desert - the songs are weedy sub-Magic Numbers nonsense, their voices sound weak and thin. The harmonies occasionally remind of the America of old, but there isn't a song here that would have made it to their debut album. Avoid, unless you're really keen on Rainbow's Geoffrey and Bungle covering Westlife.

ACE rating 2/10