In the 1980s, living in Evanston on Chicago's northern border and bellied up regularly to the bar at Holstein's, a long-defunct Lincoln Avenue folk club, I encountered a range of performers on the local scene as well as some nationally and internationally prominent luminaries passing through. I had a good time, and I learned a lot. One thing I learned is that you don't have to be smart to be a good musician.

Additionally, I learned that I, whose single instrument was (and remains) the stereo, often knew more about folk music than the musicians who sang it from the stage. Not in all cases, however. I didn't meet Andrew Calhoun, who even then was deeply versed in the intersection of folk and literary traditions, sitting atop an adjacent stool at Holstein's. I was aware, though, of his presence because I'd occasionally see him behind a microphone at a festival in Illinois or Wisconsin. He struck me then as young but clearly talented, and I was taken in particular with an early song of his, "Water Street," which got some airplay on Chicago's classical music WFMT, which hosts a long-running Saturday-night folk show.

There has never been any question about Calhoun's braininess or his musical gifts, which are formidable. He's released more than a dozen CDs, most on his Waterbug label, which also issues recordings by other folk-based singers and songwriters. His Bound to Go (which I reviewed in this space on 16 August 2008), done with an informal group of white and black vocalists under the rubric Andrew Calhoun & Campground, consists of (it says here) "authentic spirituals, shout songs from the Sea Islands, prison ballads and rare secular songs from the African American folk tradition." Though I have heard an abundance of music in the ensuing 10 years, Bound to Go still sounds like one of the finest American folk albums of the 21st century.

Calhoun sings in a distinctive baritone in a manner that will remind you broadly, if you've heard him, of the late Ed McCurdy, obscure today but prominent in the 1950s revival. His daughter Casey, who has inherited her father's love of tradition, shares the credit on Skeins, which collects 15 songs from various sources and writers, including three and a half titles by Andrew himself. The latter comprises the opening cut, the appositely monikered "I Will Go With My Father A-Plowing," Andrew's setting to words by Irish poet Joseph Campbell (1879-1944). (Elsewhere, traditional melodies adorn his poems "Lagan Love" and "Gartan Mother's Lullaby," long staples of the Irish musical repertoire.) The more famous, needs-no-introduction Robert Burns contributes the lyrics to "A Rosebud by My Early Walk" and "The Wren's Nest."

The one solely traditional number is "Mrs. McGrath," dating from the early 19th century and made popular during the mid-century revival by the late Tommy Makem. Other songs are the creations of the Calhouns' friends and associates Kate MacLeod, the late Dave Carter and the British Jack Harris. "Follow the Heron," by acclaimed Scottish folksinger-songwriter Karine Polwart, ends the set on a note of both melancholy and hope, the paradoxical sensibility intelligently in evidence throughout the album.These are all strong and worthy songs capably, often movingly, rendered. However....

There's Bob Dylan's "When the Ship Comes In," which is not a good song. As I reflect on what it's doing here, I can only surmise that with its sour mood and violent imagery it is meant to comment on this ghastly moment in our national life. Fair enough. Still, I confess that I have disliked it from the first time I heard it, which was on Dylan's The Times They Are A-Changin' in 1964. I remember wondering even then what it was doing on the same record as the title tune. That song isn't all that good either, but at least it expresses the identical sentiments more inspiringly. In any event, Richard Thompson's "Time to Ring Some Changes" is a sizable improvement on either.