Eric Taylor

Carnival Jim struggles for purchase on a better tomorrow. “Her mother was a fat clown little dog act/She used to hit Jean till Jean hit her back,” the character explains in “Carnival Jim and Jean.” “I stole a little red guitar and some gasoline/She won’t do no better without me.” That crucial fulcrum — the pivotal moment when defeat matures into defiance — balances the weight of Eric Taylor’s lasting work. Hollywood Pocketknife might be his most enduring yet. Always a sharp, provocative storyteller — “Jail Widow’s Walk,” “Peppercorn Tree” and “Postcards, 3 For a Dime” are three seamless examples here — Taylor weaves complex arcs of hope and light into these tales of profound hardship. Pay especially close attention to Susan Lindfors’ reflective “A Matter of Degrees,” a breathtaking duet that deeply enriches this album’s poetic dignity.