So with this new record, I think I can say I finally "get" Ryan Adams.

Not that I didn't like him before or anything. But I guess I just couldn't really understand what all the fuss was over this guy. I mean, he put out decent enough records — and at one point it seemed like he was releasing them at the rate of about one every month or so. So part of the problem there may have been simply keeping up with the output.

But while records like Cold Roses and Jacksonville City Nights certainly had their share of fine moments, there was also an uneven quality about them. For every near-great song, there'd be others that sounded more like castoffs from an artist who seemed hellbent on releasing every single song he ever committed to tape.

Most of all, to my ears, some of Adams' songs also lacked the one thing separating him from real greatness, which was a natural sounding quality of genuine warmth. Maybe, all of that well documented anger had something to do with it.

Regardless, by this time I was still really trying hard to "get" Ryan Adams because so many people I respect were busy singing his praises. I even went to see him play live for the first time last year, and ended up witnessing an acoustic show that was one of the biggest trainwrecks I have ever witnessed on a concert stage.

I'll have much more to say about that in my review of the Ryan Adams show I'll be seeing here in Seattle this weekend. Because based on the strength of Adams' new disc Easy Tiger, I'm giving him another shot. This new record is so good, that I'm really liking my chances of seeing a great concert this time out.

The biggest difference between Easy Tiger and all of the previous Ryan Adams discs for me is just how organic, warm, and natural sounding this record sounds. Not a note of these thirteen great new songs sounds the least bit forced or contrived. Despite the fact that a myriad of influences ranging from Gram Parsons and Neil Young, to the Rolling Stones and Wilco inform the relaxed singer-songwriter sort of vibe which permeates this album.

Personally, I've always liked Adams best when playing the country rock troubadour sort of role, and the twang factor on Easy Tiger is considerable. The guitars crackle with a Byrds like jangle from the get-go on "Goodnight Rose," while the harmonies recall something more like The Band circa Big Pink. That easy, backporch vibe continues with "Two," which finds Adams harmonizing with Sheryl Crow about how "it takes two, when it used to take one," as a lonely sounding steel guitar punctuates the bittersweet sentiment.

Ryan Adams has never sounded stronger, and more confident as a vocalist here. Whatever sort of catharsis he has experienced while he reportedly spent this past year "getting clean," it has apparently bled over into his music. For the first time, this is a Ryan Adams who seems to be quite comfortable and reconciled with the idea of living in his own skin.