Parker Millsap is embraced as Americana, but on his fifth album, the Nashville-by-way-of-Oklahoma singer-songwriter expands his heartland wings. He cites the early-'70s innovations of Sly Stone and J.J. Cale as inspiration, and it makes sense. The catchy opener "Rolling" sets the mood right away, with hints of psychedelic soul and Cale's loose-limbed, free-wheeling "Tulsa Sound" blues. The fun lyrics play with the title: roll with the punches, roll down the highway, roll like a stone, and roll 'em if you got 'em—just roll the windows down first. The soul drips from "Vulnerable," with funky effects pedals and piano leading the way like a compass, as well as "It Was You" and its gospel-like backing chorus. Both of those songs also expose an unexpected, subtle connection between soul and glam, underscored by Millsap's occasional soprano reach. He veers a bit into Chris Stapleton's country-soul lane on "Being Alive" and the rich "Passing Through," with piano putting an exclamation-point punch on the end of some lines: "Every waking minute feels like a dream!" It's a bold move to give a song the same name as one of Peter Gabriel's most famous, but Millsap's "In Your Eyes" holds its own, twinkling and pulsing with metronomic percussion. The lyrics manage to come across as incredibly romantic without dipping into the usual romantic tropes: "You've got the avalanche/ You've got the hurricane/ You've got the olive branch/ You've got the flame...in your eyes." Talk about the power of love. At times, Millsap's sweet voice brings to mind the great, underappreciated David Mead, who made a splash in the late '90s/early 2000s, then faded under the radar. You can hear it in the sustained vowels ("It's obscene, the in betweeeeeeeeeeen") of the tender lullabye "In Between," sung with Erin Rae, and on the moving "The Real Thing." That song was written pre-pandemic while Millsap was on tour and missing his wife, but holds new meaning now that the world has been in lockdown. "I can't hold you to my chest through the telephone/ I'm through with the telephone," he sings. "I can't stand a poor connection, can't hold your hand through the screen." He also understands the power of dynamics, traveling from a simple two-chord simmer on "Dammit" to an explosive swell of sound—and proving you sometimes don't even need a traditional chorus to keep things interesting. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz