The Salesman and Bernadette is a three-dimensional album, as bold as it is lonely. For this release, Chesnutt enlisted the backing talents of the 12-piece band Lambchop, who are no strangers to the country and soul that Salesman peddles. The songs weave into one another, bouncing from Motown to Merle Haggard to Van Morrison. The result sounds like a copy of Pet Sounds storming out of the house and drinking until it cries; the playing and production have to be heard to be believed. Wisely, Chesnutt withholds the money shot until Salesman's last two songs; "Square Room" is an astral take on the aching laments of George Jones, and "Old Hotel" is a midnight sulk into slippery samples and husky growling. It's not a disc that's easily appreciated on the first listen, but a few patient spins unravel something opaque yet shiny as hell. --Jason Josephes