First, a clearing of the throat, then the one and only citation here of the full name, which is probably less exhausting to type than to speak, though I'm sure not by much: New Moon Jelly Roll Freedom Rockers, hereafter NMJRFR. They are not a touring band, thus the "various artists" designation, but a gathering that happened among family, friends and like-minded musicians in Coldwater, Mississippi, in 2007.

These are performers whose individual resumes would fill paragraphs and expand this review to an unmanageable length. The two elders are pianist, producer and genuine rock 'n' roll legend Jim Dickinson (d. 2009) and the revered, much-recorded harmonica/vocalist Charlie Musselwhite. As representative of the next generation, we have Jim's sons Cody and Luther (of the North Mississippi Allstars), Alvin Youngblood Hart (folk-bluesman) and Jimbo Mathus (Squirrel Nut Zippers). A range of rooted styles is on display on this warm, compelling album that covers much of what drew me to the blues in the first place.

Proceedings open with Musselwhite's "Blues, Why You Worry Me?", which captures in gratifying fashion the soul of mid-century Chicago. Musselwhite is credited with writing it, but in common with all great songs you could almost believe it has always been around. Happily, "Pony Blues," associated with Charlie Patton, follows, with Hart's hard-road vocals and a band arrangement that splits the difference between the early 20th-century original and a contemporary reimagining which still never lets you forget where it came from. In its time "Pony Blues" played a significant role in the creation of the downhome-blues sound that would influence, in particular, Howlin' Wolf a couple of decades later.

This was all done live. Band members more or less improvised both a song list and its execution, loose and tight at once and manifestly delighting in what they were putting together, everything from the Memphis Jug Band's "KC Moan," Wilbert Harrison's "Let's Work Together," the Mississippi Sheiks' "Stop & Listen Blues" (itself a variant of the ur Delta "Big Road Blues"), the New Orleans oldtimer "Come on Down to My House," more terrific Musselwhite compositions and even Jimi Hendrix's psychedelic blues "Stone Free."

This remarkably well-chosen, well-informed selection of material takes an extra shine in the hands of some of the most accomplished blues artists of two generations. Their love of the music is palpable, and their capacity to communicate that love, not to mention blues' most distinctive and moving characteristics, is always in awe, never in question. An album at this level of blues authenticity doesn't come around often. The sequel will be issued in the spring.

Sugar Ray Norcia & the Bluetones are just as grounded in the genre's history, and some of what they do overlaps with NMJRFR, but theirs is generally a more urban approach. It encompasses sounds from Chicago, New Orleans, Kansas City and Tin Pan Alley. There is more attention paid to melody than one hears in many of their contemporaries. The result is an often contemplative blues, meditating on life's regrets and confusions than on its hopes and good times, though Norcia's title tune is a delicious example of blues' cheerier side. Sometimes the humor is tinged with darkness. Comic recitations don't get more enigmatic and sinister than Bluetone Michael "Mudcat" Ward's "The Night I Got Pulled Over."

Sugar Ray and associates have had more than three decades to work on creating an impressively mature formulation, which is what one gets here: grown-up music devoid of rookie or even mid-career errors. An essential part is longtime piano player Anthony Geraci's contribution, evident in such standout cuts as Norcia's own "Too Little Too Late" and Otis Spann's "What Will Become of Me." (I reviewed Geraci's latest solo effort here this past 11 July.) As always Norcia leads with his vocals and harmonica, both distinctive and distinguished.

In addition, Charlie Baty, of the late blues/roots-rock band Little Charlie & the Nightcats (whose Alligator LPs spent a lot of time spinning on my record player in the 1980s), adds some spunky electric guitar. The eminent (and ubiquitous) Duke Robillard expertly kicks up the intensity of several cuts.

First-rate songs, seasoned performers, a stellar band -- all that pretty much defines a disc you'll want to hear more than a couple of times. Sugar Ray & the Bluetones are high on my list of favorite 21st-century blues outfits. Give them a listen, and I'm pretty certain they'll be on yours, too.