RY COODER
My Name Is Buddy
Nonesuch/Perro Verde

On the face of it, an album of quasi-traditional tunes chronicling the story of a unionised cat and his left-wing mouse friend in 1930s America seems an allegory too far. But Ry Cooder (60 this week) begs to differ. "Animals are perfect characters because they don't say much. They're beautiful metaphors. Very solid, not so hard to understand." The proof is in the pudding: this is a truly remarkable record, rich on so many levels - musical, philosophical, historical, simple entertainment - that even the sceptical listener is just sucked in.

Cooder is a master of what is known as vernacular music, distinctively local sounds and songs. Since he first went solo almost 40 years ago with albums such as Into the Purple Valley and Boomer's Story, and later with Chicken Skin Music, Jazz, his Cuban resurrection shuffle the Bueno Vista Social Club, and his most recent homage to neighbourhood, Chavez Ravine, Cooder has always paid loving respect to the music of the people, as distinct from the diktats of the music industry. His politics clearly guide him. He is an old-fashioned, New Deal Democrat, something similar to Buddy Red Cat, his hero. And so through his voice we learn, and not without humour, of the emptiness of prejudice, the lot of the working man, the values of solidarity and other concepts that seem almost quaint today.

Cooder utilises a fascinating mix of styles: folk, folk-blues, spirituals, country soul, lounge jazz. He throws the lot into the pot, helped by a luminous cast including Pete Seeger and Paddy Moloney. The result is a grainy, compelling, wonderfully entertaining story of cat and mouse extraordinaire. www.ryland-cooder.com