The Sumner Brothers, whom I have not heard, are better known in western Canada than south of the border. Though (I read here) they started as an acoustic duo, they have evolved into a rock band. Bob Sumner's first solo project, however, is a modern folk recording, consisting mostly of mid-tempo, melodic, self-penned songs, narrated in the voice of experience. Which is to say bleak and regretful for the most part.

What I have written above could be said of many albums over past decades. Most are not all that interesting. It's easy to be cynical about singer-songwriters, who sometimes give the impression of being a plague upon the land. It's good to be reminded on occasion that such need not always the case. But the promotional copy, designed to encourage potential reviewers and radio programmers to give Wasted Love Songs a listen, is not entirely, albeit understandably, on the mark in likening Sumner to Townes Van Zandt, Tom Petty and Bruce Springsteen. These, after all, are familiar names. A less familiar name, un-cited but more apt, is Tom Rush.

In 1970 Rush, a product of the Boston/Cambridge scene who'd recorded previously for Prestige and Elektra, released his eponymous Columbia debut, consisting mostly of material by other writers, most notably emerging stars James Taylor and Jackson Browne. They were eclipsed by a couple of obscure Canadian composers, David Wiffen ("Driving Wheel" ) and Murray McLauchlan ("Old Man Song," "Child's Song"). For their efforts both got their last names misspelled in the credits. In any event, Tom Rush amounted to a statement of what folk-based music would sound like in the post-revival decade on its way: more fully produced, more the product of current songwriters than of venerable traditions, a more contemporary sensibility.

The album was a triumph. It still sounds wonderful. I should know because I'm listening to it as I type. I am a little surprised that it has more rock flavorings than I'd remembered since my last hearing, but they're OK. In any event, though Rush's producer didn't employ a synthesizer, he fashioned rich, nuanced atmospherics out of Rush's mostly acoustic band. Sumner does call up synth sounds but largely eschews rock textures.

I have no idea if Sumner knows anything about the folk performers of another generation, but somebody involved in this project must have heard classic Rush. Wasted evokes the feeling of Tom Rush's quieter, more reflective songs. In fact, from time to time he even sings like Rush. Consider, for example, "New York City," an especially strong number, and in particular the way he articulates the line "I'm not a bird/ I don't want to fly." "Worn Down Boy" could be a Rush outtake. As far as I'm concerned, you couldn't ask for a more able guide through this sort of musical terrain.

None of this is intended to disparage Sumner's robust strengths as writer and vocalist, not to mention confident habitation of an impressively imagined soundscape. Wasted opens with "Riverbed," which succeeds on all levels: lyric, melody, production and moody, grown-up perspective. It closes with "Ticket to Ride," not the Beatles song but among the closest things here to an actual folk (as in traditional) tune, a 21st-century reimagining of the heaven-bound train theme. It is also, almost incidentally, an anti-war protest song.

Much of the pleasure Wasted Love Songs delivers owes to its sheer unexpectedness. Its depth of feeling and artistry pulls one into the narrative stream, and it carries one back for something fresh and surprising on each immersion.

[ visit Bob Sumner's website ]