Tim Barry

[4/5] As freak-folk confounds America and folk-punk becomes as conventional a notion as pop-punk, there's no doubt we're in the middle of some kind of folk revival. Against this trendy backdrop, the leader of Richmond, Virginia's melodic hardcore vets Avail has released an honest, unhyphenated folk album, among the best of its kind since Ryan Adams' Heartbreaker. Thematically, Tim Barry's solo debut is full of trains, trains, trains, a subject he knows first-hand-like the folk patriarchs--as an avid freight-hopper, but the songs that highlight the startling grace he's gained as a lyricist take place on foot. "Shoulda Oughta" is a spookily classic-sounding drunken stumble around a desolate town where "It's hot as two Julys and I'm cold as 10 Decembers"; while "Wait At Milano," a deeply lonely ballad, finds its only comfort in the act of putting one foot in front of the other, even though "life's too long and its cadence is all wrong." Rivanna Junction is a woolly album; sometimes, behind the lilting and shouting and fiddling and strumming, you can hear gear falling over, or someone knocking at the studio door. Then again, that could just be the sound of a generation of wannabe troubadours hanging up its boots and going back to college. (SUBURBAN HOME; suburbanhomerecords.com) Andrew Marcus