This review of a recording released earlier this year is late to the fair because, as happens in my scattered life from time to time, a worthy CD sinks to the bottom of the pile, only to be recovered later when I'm looking for something else. Billy Droze's Renaissance deserves your attention if you're interested in bluegrass and arguably even if you aren't.

Droze has created a sui generis interpretation of the genre. There's little doubt that it falls within the broad definition, though you could insist that it's not bluegrass because there's not a banjo on every cut. In fact, it's there more than you'd think on casual listening; it's just buried in the mix. The arrangements, if modern, are more or less tradition-based; nothing comes across as what you might call "experimental." The songs, all Droze co-writes, take up familiar themes carried over from bluegrass's Appalachian forebears: trains, leavin' town, prison, love lost and found, salvation. Droze's impressive vocals resemble a splitting of the difference between Del McCoury and Larry Sparks.

Even so, this is not your grandpa's bluegrass, though I suspect he'd find it hard to dislike. It's hard not to like what Droze lays down here. The songs are spectacularly musical. None feels as if written as somebody was taking a nap, which cannot be said of a distressing number of bluegrass compositions. The melodies are refreshingly original, as are some of the musical influences. At least three cuts represent a wholly unexpected approach: the infusion of something like Latin-pop rhythms. The songs -- "Shadows in the Room," "When the Time Comes" and "She Broke My Heart in Spanish" -- are lovely indeed. I wonder if the last of these owes its inspiration to Joe Ely's "She Never Spoke Spanish to Me," a sort of reply to Charles Badger Clark's famous "Spanish is the Loving Tongue."

The anthemic "If It Wasn't for a Song" sounds rather like gospel, except that it's dedicated to the healing powers of this specific inspired human creation. "Shackled and Bound" could be a Bill Monroe song set in an unusual arrangement. "Chain Gang" and "Free Again" are pretty respectable contributions to the hefty catalogue of bluegrass ballads about criminals, but they don't sound much like any of the others. The latter has some of the markings of a sacred song, though thematically far from one. On the other hand, the closing cut, "Till I Get Home," is full-strength gospel sufficient to command the respect even of heathens.

I missed Renaissance the first time around. I'm glad that I caught it on the second. If you choose to check it out, I doubt you'll regret it.