Lyle Lovett and his Large Band Lovett, always a favorite of the critics, is touring on the strength of his piping-hot, new Natural Forces, which is more of the same for the tall, cool drink of water: namely, melancholic mid-tempo heart-bruisers with a thread of the existentially absurd running through them to remind us that we shouldn't take anything too seriously. He's beginning to get his just desserts as a catalog artist, which is nice. What's nicer is Forces is more than a worthy addition to his already teeming panoply of platters. Belk Theater (Timothy C. Davis)
Lucero Ramblin' Roadshow & Memphis Revue The erstwhile Memphians' newest, 1372 Overton Park, sees their already bustling countryfied sound served up with a side of sweet soul gravy with the inclusion of horns on a number of tracks. What's more, it works: The band has always tended toward the anthemic, and the muscle-bound (if not Muscle Shoals) brass allows the band to somehow sound even more stripped-down. Which is not to say slick think early Springsteen, where you could almost smell the streets that the Bard of the Boardwalk so lovingly described. Singer Ben Nichols is a worthy successor to the Boss' poet/populist throne, and, the band's sometimes-tight-assed fans be damned, this might be his most cohesive extended narrative yet. With The Dirty Streets, Cedric Burnside and Lightnin' Malcolm. Visulite (Davis)
Adam Arcuragi Touring behind his recent countrified release, I Am Become Joy, Arcuragi's music is cousin to the sad-eyed folk and country rock of fellow travelers like Mark Kozelek and Damien Jurado. These shimmering songs feature gentle, minor key jangle with a slight twang, the occasional well-placed horn and string section, and literate narratives with a vaguely religious undertow. Arcuragi's a published poet and playwright, so this ain't the usual "I got hammered last night cuz you left me and now I can't pay the rent" fare. With Japan's Uzuhi, Self-Evident and Summer Night Shade, all part of Customer Appreciation Night, meaning ... no cover, ya cheap bastards. Milestone (John Schacht)