One doesn't associate Austin with bluegrass, for all that city's boast that it is the epicenter of modern American roots music. (My impression of its over-population of singer-songwriters, on the other hand, is that most define "roots" as other singer-songwriters.) Happily, Wood & Wire proves itself to be an engaging, credible traditional band which yet innovates in all sorts of pleasing, surprising ways.

Overwhelmingly, even now most 'grass bands have a Southeastern sound embedded in the vision of Bill Monroe and other foundational mid-century artists, most of whom grew up in Kentucky, Virginia, Georgia, North Carolina and bordering states. Bands that stray too far from that -- there have always been those, and their numbers have multiplied over the years -- sometimes end up not being lumped with bluegrass at all. I offer this not as a judgment, of course, only as an observation, and perhaps part of the explanation for the alleged necessity of the would-be genre "Americana." Which is to say that if you want to define what we have here, Southwestern 'grass is as good as any.

Wood & Wire -- with the addition of mandolinist Billy Bright now expanded into a quartet, no longer a trio -- feels like a mature outfit after the promise of its previous outing, The Coast, which I reviewed in this space on 2 May 2015. I get some sense of where a band like this comes from -- the Dillards, John Hartford, Tony Rice, the folk tradition more than classic country -- but it all coalesces in inspiring fashion, thanks to intelligent arrangements, solid vocals and first-rate songwriting that eschews every single bluegrass cliche while remaining true to the spirit of the genre.

In short, though the tunes and songs are written within the group (for the most part separately by Bright and guitar/vocalist Tony Kamel), these guys aren't engaged in singer-songwriter pop pointlessly set amid bluegrass production (yes, it happens). Wood & Wire put forth an organic creation, with words, voices, instruments and musical history all in harmony. That means the sound is of a piece, from the vivid outlaw ballad "Texas" to the cheery, oldtime-flavored "Eliza" to the eerie pastoral "Awake in the Wake."

As if to prove the guys can do it, Kamel contributes "Lies & Money," which one can easily imagine as a strong cut on a Monroe or a Stanley Brothers record. The instrumental "Wingding," composed by Bright, is pure Flatt & Scruggs and thus sheer joy.

Then again, "As Good As It Gets," with its upending of pieties about salvation and heavenly reward, steps decisively away from the standard bluegrass practice in which faith is worn on sleeve and affirmed with more sincerity than sometimes seems either polite or bearable. If you're not listening closely, you might not know what you're getting. The moral resolution "I'm gonna get right" is familiar enough. The rest of the lyric -- "cause I know this is as good as it gets" -- won't be. I wonder if these guys are brave or crazy enough to perform it at the festivals I assume they play. In common with Iris DeMent's "Let the Mystery Be," it's that rarest species of song: the agnostic hymn. Bluegrass needed one of those.