In 1997, nearly every critic in the country lauded Smithsonian/Folkways' re-release of Harry Smith's Anthology of American Folk Music. Originally released in 1952, the three-volume set-- a fourth volume was added in 2000-- provides an awesome, sweeping perspective of the foundation of American music. Then, in 1999, came Moby's Play, which sampled Alan Lomax-era field blues; by 2000, the word "ubiquity" had become an understatement. And here in 2001, the soundtrack to the Coen brothers' southern romp through the Odyssey, O Brother Where Art Thou, has reached unlikely heights, peaking at #13 on the Billboard 200.

I think it's safe to say that American roots music-- that is, pre-WWII country, blues, and folk, which were often indiscernible-- is more popular than it's been for at least 30 years, if not since the era of its creation. And it probably won't get any more popular than this. Smith's anthology is collecting dust in East Village apartments. O Brother, Where Art Thou has slipped out of the Top 20, albeit gracefully. And, alas, all 18 commercially licensed tracks from Moby's album are evaporating from our collective consciousness. (At last!)

This minor boom helped lift some artists, like Emmylou Harris and Ramblin' Jack Elliott back into the spotlight. Still, there are countless more artists-- Eric Von Schmidt and Stefan Grossman, to name a couple-- who should've received attention for their old-time talents, but never did. But who would have thought, ten years ago, that the lead singer of the Screaming Trees would be one of the neglected?

Mark Lanegan, the solo artist, has written music with his feet planted firmly in aged American soil. Over the course of four solo albums since 1990, his gritty blues, country and folk has become progressively more roots-oriented, not to mention more sophisticated. Lanegan's determination to hone his sound culminated with 1998's I'll Take Care of You, a covers album that ranged from Buck Owens- to Jeffrey Lee Pierce-penned songs, yet managed to unify all of them.

Field Songs is, fortunately for us, more of the same, except that Lanegan's back to writing original material. This is sub-pop in the truest sense: it's music made in the pop/rock era with influences from before the era was even conceived. But his sonic palette has also widened. Just seconds into the opener, "One Way Track," after the snare-heavy percussion and soft electric and acoustic guitars shuffle in, the ears are pricked by low-decibel dissonance: echoing guitar scratches like high-pitched thunder or machine-gun fire; a twinkling piano like rain on a corrugated tin roof; buzzing like a recalcitrant computer. But none of it invades the space needed for his husky voice and lines like, "The stars and the moon aren't where they're supposed to be/ But a strange electric light falls so close to me."

The next track, "No Easy Action," opens with female ahhh's before breaking into a whir- and acoustic-fueled tear through blues romps, gospel choirs, and rock psychedelics. As always, Lanegan's voice is as compellingly loud and high-pitched as it is low and smoky; but accompanied, as he is during this moment, by the almost tribal voices of the women, his music reaches an uplifting epiphany. And then there's the utterly different epiphany reached on "Field Song," where soft, reverberated chords give way to nearly a minute of crashing guitars. But on most of these tracks, the touches are very subtle: rain in the background of the beautiful, understated instrumental, "Blues for D"; distant guitars crackling like falling timbers on "Fix"; buzzing tolls ringing over the hills on "She's Done Too Much."

While these additions have prevented Lanegan from being straight-jacketed by his roots influences, as some fans and critics feared, those addicted to Lanegan's dark sound need not worry. When you distill Field Songs, what's left is the same haunted man singing folk, blues, and country numbers for the depressed and downtrodden. Even with deep, yet restrained atmospherics at work-- as on "One Way Street"-- he's singing lines like, "I drink so much sour whiskey, I can hardly see." Furthermore, the majority of these tracks are still the full-sounding, yet bare-boned affairs that Lanegan has made his trademark. If any album is capable of delivering roots music's last gasp of popularity, Field Songs is it.

-Ryan Kearney