Nature’s Light by Blackmore’s Night: Yes, the Renaissance-reenacting jigs and reels of the former Deep Purple and Rainbow guitarist Ritchie Blackmore and his wife have begun to sound like variations on the same theme. But, one, there’s nothing wrong with the theme. Two, “The Twisted Oak” belongs on the couple’s next best-of. And, three, Stevie Nicks could do wonders with “Four Winds.” Additionally, Blackmore occasionally still plugs in and solos, and not every song is a jig or reel. On “Der Letzte Musketier” and “Darker Shade of Black” (OK, it should’ve been called “Blacker Shade of Dark”), Candice doesn’t even sing. The former wouldn’t have sounded out of place on The Book of Taliesyn. And the latter is an answer song over 50 years in the making.

Orpheus and the Mermaids by Anders Osborne: For years, Osborne has practically owned New Orleans’ roots-rock-singer-songwriter turf (see his 22 “Best of the Beat” awards going back to 1995 if you doubt), and there’s local Crescent City color on this suite for solo voice, harmonica, and acoustic guitar too. But other places provide hues as well (see the travelogue “Jacksonville to Wichita”), and although his second song to mention the Florida Keys embeds a profanity in its refrain, transcendent moments abound. (See the examination of conscience, “Light Up the Sun”). Most transcendent of all: the way that his voice (see Jackson Browne and Loudon Wainwright III) rolls and flows to a guitar sound that’s pure Blood on the Tracks.

Rhinestoned by Jason Ringenberg: There’s enough hillbilly in Ringenberg’s singing and enough Appalachia in his rock ’n’ roll to make the wide-ranging subjects of his recent forays into homage-paying seem radical in the most literal sense. Last time it was John Muir, the Ramones, and John the Baptist. This time it’s the Freedom Riders, Crazy Horse, Hank Williams, and the resurrected Christ. Put all those together, and you get the impression that it’s by tying himself to a tree with roots (and by turning guitar duties over to George Bradfute) that Ringenberg intends to weather the storms that threaten the memory of all he holds dear (Nashville’s rhinestone era included). You also have a syllabus the likes of which history majors won’t easily forget.

Denizen Tenant by Joseph Williams: Williams is the composer John Williams’ son and Toto’s current lead singer. And, as with all Toto-related projects, this album’s production, whether by Williams (nine tracks) or Jay Gruska (two), is sumptuous. Could any of these cuts have been hits circa Toto IV? “Black Dahlia” probably (although it owes more to Steely Dan circa Aja) and “Don’t Give Up” (except that Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush wouldn’t have yet minted the original). The lyrics philosophize colloquially—“Never Saw You Coming” (the home of the album’s sole profanity) amounts to “Man knows not his time.” As for the vocals, emerging as they do from someone deemed worthy to succeed Bobby Kimball and Fergie Frederiksen, they hold the line.

Encore

Available by itself or as a limited-edition, colored-vinyl twofer with his Toto buddy’s Joseph Williams’ Denizen Tenant, Steve Lukather’s I Found the Sun Again (The Players Club) stretches five prime examples of what used to be called FM rock across tentpole covers of Traffic’s “Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys,” Joe Walsh’s “Welcome to the Club,” and Robin Trower’s “Bridge of Sighs,” at least two of which, if only marginally, improve on the originals.

But what really keeps I Found the Sun Again from doubling as a Toto disc (the contributions of David Paich on almost every song notwithstanding) is Lukather’s burly voice, which would’ve weighted down “Africa” or “Rosanna” but which suits the svelte pop curves of “Run to Me” (not a Bee Gees cover) and the brawny, live-in-the-studio sizzle of “Along for the Ride” just fine. Still, it’s as a guitarist that Lukather’s best known, and it’s the soaring instrumental “Journey Through” that most clearly demonstrates why. —A.O.