The appeal of McMurtry songs has never relied on anything groundbreaking in the melodies or the way it's played, although both are solid in that regard. No, it's those narrative lyrics and the personal way McMurtry delivers them that keeps listeners mesmerized like a child giving rapt attention to a bedtime story being read aloud to him by a parent. That's what makes a tune like "We Can't Make It Here" from Childish so engaging despite its sheer length.

He likewise does a magnificent songcrafting job on the lightly accompanied "Ruby and Carlos," where he spins the sad tale of a cross-generational relationship battered to death by conflicting aspirations. McMurtry does it with such pithy imagery it's bound to have made Townes Van Zandt nod in approval from whatever place he ended up in the afterlife. At the least, James' more famous literary father, Larry, surely approves. With that talking/singing style he's long ago perfected, the son James spins the tale of the doomed lovers with sweet poetry:

Carlos packed his drums up in the dark of night
Ruby standing just outside the front porch light
Chain-smoking Camel straights
The sky off to the East got grey
And he rolled off in a cloud of dust

The pictures on the back and the sleeve of the CD show McMurtry at a bar nursing a beer and chatting with friends. It presents him as a guy that regular folks can connect to as one of their own. You don't need the pictures to get a sense that McMurtry is that kind of person. The music contained on the disc makes his ability to connect with common people like you and me much more apparent than pictures ever could.