In South Carolina there is a Wilson Banjo Co., and it's what you think it would be: a company that builds banjos to order and is run by somebody named Wilson. Steve Wilson, to be specific. Originally conceived (and still functioning) as a device to promote the business, the company's name got adopted to a bluegrass ... well, I'm not sure band is the apposite word. Here's how Wilson puts it:

"I wanted to capture the sound of my custom banjos, played by the greatest [musicians] that endorse them, record music with the incredible artists I have engineered projects for and shared a stage with, and make original music that was fresh and exciting." As the statement makes clear, Wilson is himself a bluegrass performer; he has worked with Dale Ann Bradley, Flashback and other admired bands and singers. From the evidence of this album, his banjos sound great, and he has picked the right people -- nearly 30 of them, not all on the same cuts, of course -- to fulfill his vision of outstanding bluegrass.

Six Degrees of Separation is the work of someone who knows exactly what he wants to do and how one goes about doing it. It helps that Wilson is experienced in just about every aspect of the genre: producing, engineering, writing and performing. Thus, the sort of direction that defines bluegrass at a level, if operating at various pulls of gravity, between accessible and intense, modern and traditional. Dip in just about anywhere, and you'll likely encounter something that pleases you, such as "When the Crow Comes Down," a song with an oldtime Appalachian sensibility, brilliantly sung by Sarah Logan who is, happily, there at lead on seven of the dozen cuts. "Midnight on the Highway," though not literally a Carter Stanley song, is as gripping as any in the original Carter & Ralph catalogue. Elsewhere, "Old Fashioned Ways" could be the title of a reactionary lament with a creepy political subtext; here it is a gratifyingly conceived take on the eternal theme of romantic heartbreak, moreover boasting a melody destined to spin in constant rotation on the psychic radio station, and welcome every time around.

"Midnight on the Highway" was composed by Hot Rize's Tim O'Brien, Nick Forster and Pete Wernick, names familiar to most bluegrass fans. Before now, though, I hadn't heard of Severin Theinert, who wrote and sings "Old Fashioned Ways," but I certainly will look for him from now on. Wilson himself contributes five co-writes, two with his wife Melanie, all solidly constructed, all finding interesting ways to reimagine themes with which bluegrass has been associated since its inception. "The Ambassador," put together with Stephen Briggs, is a standout gospel number. "Wrong Turn That Led Me to You" (with Britany Wilson) is sufficiently cliche-free that I didn't recognize it as a religious number until the third hearing or so.

Having been introduced to it in high school and finding myself enamored of it in my college days, I have been exposed to an incomprehensibly vast amount of bluegrass over the decades. The foundational artists, those such as the Stanley Brothers, Flatt & Scruggs and the like under the immediate influence of Bill Monroe, took their songs seriously and, besides being astonishing technical musicians, composed terrific songs still able to touch anybody who cares to listen. Over the decades, however (or so it seems to me), a significant portion of the songs became little more than vehicles for the picking and the harmonies. Often, the lyrics and melodies gave the impression of being written in somebody's sleep, no more than the pilings-on of hackneyed phrases and sentiments.

That definitely is not the case in the present instance, where all concerned seem focused on conjuring up bluegrass bristling with life, feeling and storytelling as well as superior licks. I've heard enough new bluegrass this year to experience hope for a renewal of the best the genre has to offer. You can hear some of that on Six Degrees.

Now, please excuse me. I need to hear "Old Fashioned Ways" again.