Frisell certainly delivers, but largely in his ambient, cerebral jazzman sort of way. A whopping 26 tracks make up the album, few of which are more than skeletal, country-jazz song palettes. Each is hardly unique from the one before, with the exception of "That's Alright, Mama" and Hank Williams' "Lovesick Blues," whose familiarity lends accessibility and fun in an otherwise sparse, haunting soundscape. Additionally, the band, complete with violin and warbly steel guitar, rarely gets out of second gear; and the virtuoso himself displays little virtuosity.
Perhaps the nature of the project shaped such deliberate non-centeredness, but when the plethoric 31 tracks that comprised his last studio effort are considered, it's only natural to feel that songwriting A.D.D. has become part of Frisell's current package. Floating and ethereal at times, overall it feels like a neat backdrop for the college-educated, iPod-toting sect perusing the Depression in well-lit, air-conditioned, state-of-the-art galleries.