A Folk Set Apart

Cass McCombs's new anthology, A Folk Set Apart, is subtitled "Rarities, B-Sides & Space Junk, Etc." which is, on the surface, true but it's so much more than that. It's an alternate retelling of the last decade and a half of an enigmatic career long on amazing songwriting but short on breakthrough success. And while it contains none of McCombs's better-known songs from his seven and a half full-lengths, he would have you believe that this is his own favorite album.

And McCombs is right, actually: in spite of its compilation status, nineteen tracks in all, it might well be the most compelling album he's released, not because the original albums are lacking in their own charms, but there is something fascinating in the sprawl: chugging lo-fi, downtrodden gems, rambling rave-ups, political anthems, lysergic outtakes, wistful laments and an appropriate bookend on our own decade-long professional relationship with one of the greatest songwriters of the 21st Century.