Alejandro Escovedo

Alejandro Escovedo hasn't had it easy — his first wife committed suicide; his excellent, critically praised discs haven't set any charts afire; and he battled a recent bout of hepatitis without the support of health insurance (the latter is unfortunately the case for many sick musicians). With that in mind, one might expect his first release since 2002's By the Hand of the Father to be either brooding or vitriolic (and who'd blame him?). The Boxing Mirror finds Escovedo instead confronting assorted demons — his own and others' — passionately but free of self-absorption. His songs are mini-film noirs, populated by characters seeking a proverbial way out, mitigated by glimmers of compassion, tenacity, and hope: Have a drink on me/ I've been empty since Arizona and Hold to the light/ So no one will know/ We died a little today. Though his band numbers but nine members, it projects an orchestral depth and understated grandeur — thank John Cale, whose production (alternately stark and opulent) evokes that of his own recordings (the pounding, feverish "Sacramento & Polk" would be at home on Cale's Fear). With Escovedo's plaintive voice exultant, the harrowing Mirror is one of the finest of this songwriter's career, as well as one of the best releases of 2006.