So apparently Steve Earle had a stroke or something. Skip right ahead to the dynamic trio of songs comprising Johnny Too Bad, Dominick St. and Breed and you'll understand. And remember, this is Steve Earle we're talking about here, y'all.

Johnny Too Bad has a pretty good title, except instead of "Johnny Too Bad" it should be "Johnny About Six or Seven Bad." I'm not quite sure how the bad scale works. It's healthy to avoid these things and the complementary "turning jaded" that goes along with them. Oh, Steve Earle, did we really need a reggae song from you?

Next, Dominick St., a little Celtic dee-duh-lee-duh-lee-duh-dum tune that most people could stand for about half a minute, so long as there are little dancing elves in bright, erotic costumes to look at. There aren't any. Nor does Earle sing. So what's the point? Well, like most of this album, the point is picking up after himself, throwing "side" projects and sound "track" material together (sidetracks, get it?), all for your burdened dollar.

OK, here's the real kicker. Earle covers Breed with exactly 43% as much success as Kurt Cobain. Despite my generational affiliation, I'm not some blind worshipper at the church of grunge that the awesome Nirvana built pretty much single-handedly. But come on. Don't try and out-Nirvana Nirvana, dude. It makes you look like someone's dad, which, of course, you are.

And boy!, is the Sheryl Crow duet, not even recorded in the same room, annoying. Sometimes the recording industry should just shut the door.

That said, fine tunes include the first three tracks, especially Me and the Eagle, a sad, I Feel Alright-sounding song hot enough to melt any icy heart. But the bluegrass stuff at the end, recorded with the Bluegrass Dukes, gets dull after three songs.

No, no. Avoid this beast. It's foamy and smells funny. And what's the horrible noise it makes? (More on: Steve Earle).

Track Listing