29, the third(!) Ryan Adams album of 2005, is dark, moody, elegiac, and brooding. And quite good. It is the kind of record who's charms are less obvious, and which unfolds itself to you over repeated listenings, when you least expect it.

Cold Roses and Jacksonville City Nights were pretty clearly country records, both cut with his new (and, it turns out, evolving) band the Cardinals. Here we get an Adams solo record, absent the band vibe and the country touches that flavor the two previous releases, and more of a serious singer-songwriter turn. Many of the songs are intricate and finely drawn stories and character studies, heavy on the narrative. Indeed the songs are all like little movies, as opposed to hook-laden slices of pop. This record is like midnight at the Indie Cinema multiplex.

The opening track, "29," is a rewrite of the Grateful Dead's "Truckin'"-so much so that I thought it was a cover version until the vocals started. But he keeps it darker and more Westerberg than Weir, with acoustic guitars, electrics, and harmonica front and center in the mix; for all the obvious similarities to the Dead tune, it is more garage rock than hippie anthem.

"Strawberry Wine" is a slow plaintive story song in waltz time, sparse instrumentation, mainly Ryan's voice and acoustic guitars. "Night Birds" is a piano ballad, another minor key song, with a nice dramatic sonic effect that blends thunder and electric guitar on the refrain, "In the ocean..." By now it is clear that this is a "down" record, closer to Love is Hell than Gold, although it is always perilous to try and define a new Ryan Adams record in terms of an old one.

"Blue Sky Blues" is another downbeat piano song, Ryan's voice and piano augmented by a string section that enters midway through the song to amplify his mood and lend coloration. For a song with "blue sky" in the title, this one dwells an awful lot on rain.

"Carolina Rain" introduces some of the country lilt of the earlier records, especially through some tasteful pedal steel behind Adams's story singing. "Starlite Diner" is another piano lament, this time about a lost love. "The Sadness" brings the guitars to the fore with a sort of Flamenco flavor, and the Spanish flair is deployed to bring drama to the song throughout. It is a highlight of the album, driving and visceral, yet still "small," in the way an Indie film is small, the way the whole record is drawn to scale.

"Elizabeth You Were Born to Play That Part" moves back to piano balladry. It is probably the prettiest song on the album, and serves as its climax and centerpiece, piano and acoustic guitar sweeping the listener away in a gentle swirl of melancholy as the protagonist laments yet another lost love. "Voices" closes the record out, dark and foreboding, barely there, invoking vaguely religious imagery.

Resist the urge to compare 29 to Adams's previous work; with an artist this prolific, if you keep expecting the last record, you will be continually disappointed. My wife's one sentence review of 29: "I like it; it's a little sad but I like it." It takes me 400 words to say what she nails in a sentence. A small record in a good way, a sad record in a good way, a beautifully cinematic record that will reward repeated listening. Adams completes the hat trick and has got to be the unquestioned artist of the year.

One of the most amazing feats in the last several years of music has to be the depth and quality of work that Ryan Adams has released in 2005. With this, the final of three releases in less than a year, he has provided a deeper look into his life than any of his previous releases. The concept behind the album is almost as interested as Sufjan Stevens' plan to release an album for each state in the US - one song for each year in Ryan's 20's. The result is his most personal, and compelling album yet.

The album starts with "29" - a rocking retrospective of his 20's, and the mistakes and regrets he has made. The comparisons to Grateful Dead's "Truckin" are obvious - but pay attention to the introspective lyrics, and not the heavy-handed borrowing from his idols. The album continues to tell interesting, albeit heartbreaking, stories of both Ryan's life and the other characters that he introduces - as he has on previous releases. From a storytelling perspective, the album may not get any better than "Strawberry Wine" and "Carolina Rain". They really are standouts not just on this album - but in Ryan's incredible career. "Strawberry Wine" is all about not wasting your years, and making sure that you "get your seeds in the ground" before it is too late to have a family - or as Ryan puts it, "flowers". "Carolina Rain" weaves a fascinating tale of a woman who leaves a wake of death and destruction behind her with each verse.

For fans of Ryan's piano ballads, there are some great one's on this album - "Night Birds", "Blue Sky Blues", and "Starlight Diner". Each song has it's own charms. "Night Birds" may be slightly flawed from a production standpoint, in that the end of the song seems a little to cheesy with the reverb effect laid on thick to symbolize the characters crashing into the ocean. It is still a very strong song lyrically. "Blue Sky Blues" is an upbeat song about letting go of the worries and troubles that you're feeling, and just letting your problems out from time to time. "Starlight Diner" is the one that was probably my least favorite on the album upon the first listen - but has grown to become one that I continually go back to. The tells the story of Ryan waiting in a diner for a woman, who seems to have blown him off. Haunting, and beautiful.

The two strangest, and most fun songs, on the album are "The Sadness" and "Voices". "The Sadness" is Ryan playing flamenco guitar. No - I'm not kidding. Listening to it, always makes me feel like a Western Gunfight is about to break out in a Leone film. The story told throughout the song is great - Ryan vs his demons. Using the flamenco guitar was a brave, and brilliant, move. "Voices" is about.... well, I haven't quite deciphered what it is about yet. It's just Ryan and an acoustic guitar. Hauntingly sad. Seems to be about Ryan loosing his mind - or at least that's how I've taken it. The vocal delivery on "Don't listen to the voices in the past, they lie" is great.

I've saved the best song for last - "Elizabeth, You Were Born To Play The Part". In my opinion, this is the saddest song that Ryan has ever written. It is about a friend of his who had a miscarriage late into a pregnancy, when they already had a name picked out, and never having really recovered. As heartbreaking as some of his music has been in the past, this song just tears your heart out and destroys you. The line "I'd tear myself in two, just to hear you breathe" is brilliant in its brutal honesty. How someone can have not gone through this themselves, and write something this touching and deeply moving, is amazing. Best song on any of the three albums this year.

To be honest, I downloaded this album about a month ago when it was leaked to the net - yes, I've already gone out and BOUGHT it today. The concept was too interesting for me to pass up the opportunity for a listen. Upon first listen, I was honestly disappointed. I didn't feel like it was as strong as Cold Roses or Jacksonville City Nights. Upon further listens, the impeccable songwriting has won me over. To those who have said Ryan should have chopped up the three albums this year, and created one great one - I ask you, "How?" Each album has its own feel, and serves its own purpose. Songs from this album would not fit well on JCN or CR - and vice versa.

Brilliant album, to end a ridiculously productive year for the most underappreciated artist going today. Buy this album - support this artist!

I'm relatively shocked at the negative reviews of this album. Lyrically this is one of Ryan Adam's best. Adams is storytelling throughout the album, you're getting not simply snapshots but life stories all with the poetic subtlety and attention to wording that is nearly nonexistant in all popular music.

Ryan Adams doesn't go full out country, doesn't go full out folk, doesn't go full out pop. This album really spans the spectrum of Adam's career showing the flexibility of this astonishing artist. One of the prior reviews of this album says to buy it last, I'd like to completely contradict that message. Buy this album first, find the Ryan Adams that reaches your pallette best and then go from there.

Highlights: "Blue Sky Blues", "Starlite Diner", "The Sadness*"

*One of my favorite songs of all time.

Aside from the opening track 29 is a much more introspective and quiet album compared to recent releases Jacksonville City Nights and to a lesser extent Cold Roses, which actually contains a few tracks that would have nestled snuggly. Overall in fact, the album is probably a closer relation to Whiskeytown's Pneumonia than anything Adams has done as a solo artist.

This is especially evident in tracks such as Strawberry Wine, a drunken lament softly crooned and backed predominately by ukulele, Carolina Rain...a brilliantly written story song with it's tale of unrequited love, loss and murder and the lovelorn Starlight diner in which the protagonist sings of having been stood up by his lover until he notices that she has been there all along across the room.

29 itself threatens to open up on occasion but Adam's keeps it on a tight leash and continues to reign it in just as it starts to pick up in intensity. It starts up softly with a marching band drumming then a rockabilly guitar swoops in and out throughout raising the stakes at the end of verses to give the impression the song is about to take off to another level but then the breaks come on and it's back to an almost whispered story again. The tale itself seems semi-autobiographical and paints a less than complimentary version of Adam's view of his upbringing and life and times to this point..."nobody loved me and nobody even tried"

The remaining songs are more acoustic in nature though The Sadness has a taste of Mexican Mariachi and is jarring enough to appear out of place. This may well have been the case for 29 as well had it appeared in the middle of the album rather than as the opening track, perhaps The Sadness may have worked better as the closing track just for consistency sakes. This is not to say that Voices is not a solid closing track though as it fits well with the also strong Elisabeth, You were born to play that part.

It has been a prolific year for Adams and as I doubt he will rest on his laurels I'm sure the New Year will continue in the tour, write and release cycle of the past....provided he can stay healthy and sober enough of course. More power to him......

This won't be a terribly articulate review. So be it. I've been listening to this in my car non-stop for the past month. I knew that he had released two other albums in the past year but dismissed them as not possibly meeting the quality of this. I can't say how it has touched me in a way that very little music does. At quite a deep level. So, today, I get my copy of Cold Roses and have only listened to the first disc. I'm blown away. (and, I know this is not a review of Cold Roses, but of 29). This guy is incredible and I must say that I've been ambivalent about some of his past work. If the third album is even any good, he will get my vote for the most remarkable work in a single year.

My favorites are not necessarily the same ones as others. But, that's exactly the point. The writing is exceptional (although I have my doubts about the Calexico-sounding song) and utterly beautiful. And as I listen to Cold Roses, I'm more blown away. And I don't think I'm the typical fan either (agewise etc.) This is some of the most heart-rendering stuff I've heard in years. I have to decide who in my life I want to share this stuff with -- it's that intimate.

Be well, take care, and enjoy. Thanks, Ryan.