Steve Earle: "El Corazon" (Warner Bros) The miracle that is Steve Earle's recovery from drug-induced hell may be old hat now, but the energy which fuelled his comeback continues to drive his music to new heights. El Corazon is the third album of the current generation, following on from the excellent Train A Comin' and I Feel Alright. The emphasis, thankfully, continues on Americana music. There is the folky side personified by the political passion of Christmas in Washington, the rockier side punched home by the jangling guitars in Taneytown; the reluctant remorse of If You Fall and the down-home bluegrass of I Still Carry You Around. And that's just the first four of 12 tracks, the bulk of which carry the conviction of a convert and the assurance of a master craftsman. He is aided by a host of other names, including Siobhan Kennedy, who provides the duet of the album in Poison Lovers. You can catch him at the Olympia in Dublin on Monday week. Joe Breen

Loudon Wainwright III: "Little Ship" (Virgin)

We have been long-time witnesses to Loudon's sorry but sagacious journey through this life. From being "the new Dylan", through love, fatherhood, divorce, disillusion, despair, rebirth via several flavours of humour, honesty and pain, Loudon has managed to entertain us with the vicissitudes of his humble existence. Little Ship is no different. Dedicated to his former partner, TV critic and writer Tracey McLeod, the album betrays a weariness with the fluctuations of relationships. The black humour cannot disguise the hurt of Our Own War or OGM (outgoing message) or the unaccompanied Underwear, while the jaunty disregard of So Damn Happy and The World is game, though transparent. Loudon, who is at Dublin's Olympia Theatre this Sunday, doesn't wallow in misery, he triumphs in it. But behind the smiles lies one of the most astute commentators on this post-modern life. Listen to the typically brash Mr Ambivalent or the beautifullyobserved Primrose Hill or indeed the quietly reflective The Birthday Present 11. Joe Breen

Various artists: "At The Racket" (Racket Records) Brilliant musicianship in good-time, almost tongue-incheek, wrapping. Polkas evoke the 1920s New York of the Flanagan Brothers, reels conjure up a 1950s, smooth Gallowglass ceili band. John Carty's and Brian McGrath's plunking banjo articulation choreographs the sound, corrals the listener to be washed over by Seamus O'Donnell's superb, seductive saxophone. Big tunes, too, in Splendid Isolation and Mary MacMahon, a laid-back Fred Finn's, all as if designed for the jazz device, Garry O'Briain's vamping piano mediating transition to Carty's terrific Coleman-esque vigour and sadness on fiddle. Songs like Darlin' Girl From Clare and Erin Gra Mo Chroi build out a period feel that is brought to heel only by the jarring up-to-datedness of O'Briain's Molly My Dear. Fintan Vallely