Experience counts, too, when it comes to crafting a CD.  Take, for example, the sophomore release from Hamilton-based Smoke Wagon Blues Band. While their initial recording showed them a band with promise, this outing represents a significant leap forward in almost every area, from the quality of the songwriting to improved production values and tight, no-nonsense arrangements.

Led by vocalist/harmonicist Corey Lueck and guitarist Mike Stubbs, co-composers of all but a couple of the tracks here, the SWBB tear through a varied set that includes a few nice surprises. Far from a collection of ho-hum shuffles, the boys tackle numerous styles, from the good-time boogie of “Hey Hey Mama” that kicks things off to “Wrong Side Girl,” a song that sounds like a lost Willie Dixon tune in the Hidden Charms vein. The smoky, late-night vibe of “I Can’t Change” is a highlight, Lueck’s impassioned vocals leaving no doubt this one’s straight from the heart. “Cigar Store” picks up the pace with a delightful acoustic lilt before an injection of ragtime courtesy of the Louisiana State Pen Quartet.

Elsewhere there’s the down ‘n’ dirty boogie of “Dawson City” featuring suitably nasty slide and lead from guest James Anthony, and a spirited take on a cover of “Somebody Done Changed The Lock On My Door” that features a sassy rejoinder from friend Natasha Roganovic. “Lonesome Whistle Blues” features nice, if rather workmanlike, harmonica from Lueck, but it’s the atmospheric accordion (synthesized courtesy of guest keyboards by Herve Basset, but you’d never know it’s not real) on “Lonesome Whistle Blues” that adds an elegiac air to an already wistful tune.

“That Woman Has Me” layers a breezy harmonica riff on top of a bouncy shuffle beat to excellent effect, while “Ain’t No Use” is a soulful slow blues with Lueck testifying in the best blue-eyed soul tradition. Unfortunately, it’s a little too close in tempo and fee to the tune that follows, and that’s where problems emerge – with the exception of the loping story-song of “Barton St. Blues,” too many slow-to-mid-tempo numbers bunched together at the end drag the pacing down. As a collection, the disc could easily do without “Ganaraska” (thematically a cross between the two songs that precede it, it’s not as strong as either). Also included are a bonus song, the moody but forgettable “Set Me Free,” and a hidden track, an acoustic duet between Lueck and Stubbs that’s okay but not remarkable.

But hey, trim a few tunes off and this is a first-rate collection. Sure it’s bar band stuff, but it’s done well, and Lueck proves a very fine vocalist indeed. He may be untrained but he has an appealing natural rasp to his voice, and there’s a heart-on-the–sleeve honesty in his delivery that makes it sound like he’s lived every song and means every word.

Definitely not a slick, polished product, but bursting with heart and soul and sweaty honesty, this one’s a keeper!