Jayhawks and Mason Jennings: Minnesota-made and played

The older we get, the more we care about the place we call home. That seems to be an idea swirling around the new records by Mason Jennings and the Jayhawks.

Both of these nationally known Minnesota music acts are performing in their home state this week around the release of their newest albums. And I don't just mean they're gigging in the Twin Cities: Jennings played churches in Duluth and Minneapolis last week and now heads to Mankato on Monday, following an in-store set Sunday at the Electric Fetus in Minneapolis. His so-called "Road Trip" charity tour had to be in-state, since he titled his new disc "Minnesota."

For the Jayhawks -- back with original singer Mark Olson -- the reunion itself shows a fondness for their home state. They have concerts in St. Paul, St. Cloud and Mankato before heading to New York to play Letterman on Sept. 23.

Here are reviews of these Minnesota-made albums.

There are a lot of numbers to throw out with this heavily anticipated but lightly disappointing reunion album: Two years have passed since the band starting gigging again; eight since a new record dropped with the Jayhawks name on it, and 16 since co-founder Mark Olson sang on a Jayhawks record.

In short, "Mockingbird Time" was a long time coming, and it has a lot of pluses and minuses because of that.

In his decade and a half away, Olson delved heavily into rootsy folk music and wrote with more of a transcendental, poetic flair, reaching a pinnacle with his last record before the Jayhawks restarted, "The Salvation Blues."

But the problems have less to do with Olson's prominence than with his fit. Ironically, he struggles to mesh with the group he started more than 25 years ago. Lilting folk ballads such as the title track (with the haunting refrain, "Yesterday is gone like the wind"), "Tiny Arrows" and "Black-Eyed Susan" are loaded with honey-drippy lyrics about birds and flowers and probably never should have been on a Jayhawks record. Then again, rockier tracks "Cinnamon Love" and "Hey Mr. Man" have a hokey, forced quality to them. Starting with their titles.

Three of the songs conjure the old magic with new energy. The opening anthem "Hide Your Colors" has all the swaying warmth of another of classic album kickoff, "Waiting for the Sun." The first single "She Walks in So Many Ways" is another up-tempo uplift. And at least one bittersweet folky number, "Pouring Rain at Dawn," fits in well. You can count these among all the old tunes that fans are still clamoring to hear these timeless Minnesota heroes play.

Don't go looking for songs about Paul Bunyan, walleye or close election runoffs here, despite the album title. To Mason Jennings -- born in Hawaii, raised in Pittsburgh -- Minnesota is the place where he traded in his carefree youth to cultivate the two things he cares about most as midlife nears: his family and his music career. Nine albums into the latter, he has mustered up his most cohesive and definitive collection of songs yet.

"Minnesota," the album, is where the 36-year-old singer/songwriter with the plain but unmistakable voice explores the often contradictory territory between home life and creative and professional obligations. It kicks off with a batch of love songs as warm as the home hearth, including "Raindrops on the Kitchen Floor," the kind of McCartney piano ditty Paul wrote for Linda.

The mood spirals downward after that, though, to the point where Jennings ends the album singing, "No relief from this dream that won't come true." The best of the more bruised numbers is "Wake Up," a fresh spin on an overtreaded songwriting subject -- alcoholism, instilled with a John Prine-ian blend of wry humor and drama.