'BETWEEN HERE AND GONE' Mary Chapin Carpenter (Columbia Records Nashville)

Singer-songwriter Mary Chapin Carpenter has always had the knack for writing literary songs that focus, subtly at times, on love, loss, and going through life with a certain sense of grace.
Like her peers, including Lucinda Williams, Kate Campbell and Lyle Lovett, she's carved out a section of American music that is equal parts folk, country and soul-piercing self-reflection.
The 12 songs on her eighth studio LP, "Between Here and Gone," are a like characters worn down by life, but strangely optimistic -- comfortable in the belief that the hard times will eventually go soft.
Take "Goodnight America," a delightful gem that looks at the nature of hope and how it keeps people moving forward. "I'm a stranger here, no one you would know/My ship has not come in, but I keep hoping though," Chapin Carpenter sings. She's backed by co-producer Matt Rolling, who's session piano work is crisp and delicate.
"Girls like me like summer light, a cold beer on a summer night/And boys who aren't afraid of what they see inside the eyes of girls like me," she sings, resigned and baleful in "Girls Like Me."
It's clear that as Chapin Carpenter grows in her work, and her own experiences, the music is the beneficiary.
'THE WHO -- THEN AND NOW'
The Who
(Geffen)
ss Another greatest-hits package from The Who is nothing to crow about -- the band has at least five of them on the market -- but this one ends with two new songs from a group that hasn't recorded since the mid-'80s. And that's significant.
Unfortunately, they give no hint what a future disc from Pete Townshend, Roger Daltrey and their supporting cast -- now that John Entwistle has passed away -- might sound like. "Real Good Looking Boy" is a strange and poignant exploration of self-identity that is beautiful in its execution. Only Townshend could convincingly write a song from the perspective of a boy whose mother tells him he was given short-shrift in the gene pool, and Daltrey sings it with conviction.
But "Old Red Wine" is equally remarkable in its blandness, using a tired metaphor of aging wine to speak about growing old and pay tribute to the fallen Entwistle. At best it sounds like something Townshend would toss aside when it comes time to pick a dozen songs for a proper album.
As for the 18-song greatest-hits package itself, all the essentials are here -- "Substitute," "The Kids Are Alright," "Behind Blue Eyes" -- but, of course, these are songs that any Who fan has owned for years.
"HURT NO MORE"
Mario Winans
(Bad Boy)
sss Mario Winans could have taken the easy way out, sticking close to the gospel circuit that has proven a reliable winner for his big and successful Detroit family.
But Winans -- son of gospel star Vickie Winans and nephew of CeCe and BeBe -- had a different kind of musical crush. In the '90s, after grabbing first the attention of hip-hop mogul Dallas Austin and eventually the ear of hip-hop impresario P. Diddy, Winans found himself behind the songwriting and production boards for such popular -- and decidedly secular -- artists as Mary J. Blige, Brian McKnight and Faith Evans.
Pushed by Diddy to devote his efforts to a solo album, Winans buckled down between projects and conceived the set of songs that make up his new, 17-track debut. "Hurt No More" could easily have gotten lost amid the barrage of hip-hop-R & amp;B works that flood record stores these days. But thanks to the surprise success of the leadoff single "I Don't Wanna Know," lapped up by pop and urban radio before the label even had its own copies in hand, Winans enters the fray with sizable momentum.
Like that hit track, the album shows a different kind of Bad Boy approach. While those overworked Puffy-style samples occasionally rear their heads -- including familiar licks from Madonna, Debarge and Enya -- there's a meat-and-potatoes attitude that ultimately dominates. Nobody's going to call Winans a neo-soul act, but there's enough live instrumentation and nods to the old school ("Never Really Was," "Already Know") to show that somebody was paying attention to mom's Marvin Gaye LPs.
Gaye, in fact, makes for a handy benchmark. Winans' work, steeped in romance, reveals an often pained vulnerability -- a straight-up penchant for broken hearts and the introspection that comes with the territory. Though there's little in his vocals to mark him as a stand-out singer, Winans has an expressive soul voice that avoids over-the-top temptations.
But what could give "Hurt No More" real legs is its sound, a tasteful blend of thumping hip-hop beats padded with light strings, piano and guitar.
'TRUE LOVE'
Toots and the Maytals
(V2)
sss There's no question reggae's legendary pioneers, Toots and the Maytals, make great music. But add collaborations with some mainstream rock 'n' roll greats and the music feels updated.
Much of "True Love" features remakes of Frederick "Toots" Hibbert's classics with a twist -- a lineup that includes Bonnie Raitt, Jeff Beck, Eric Clapton, Ben Harper, No Doubt, Keith Richards and Bootsy Collins and The Roots.
Think Santana's "Supernatural," only better.
The solid performance of Toots and No Doubt -- the man who helped introduce ska to the mainstream and the band that helped bring along the 1990s ska rebirth -- on the classic "Monkey Man" is a no-brainer. The blending of the rocking band and Toots' soulful voice is one of the album's gems.
Clapton takes front and center on "Pressure Drop," one of Toots' signature songs. Adams shines with "Time Tough."
But understand, this album belongs to Toots and The Maytals.
During the collaboration with Jeff Beck on "54-46 Was My Number," a song about the singer's time in jail -- Toots owns the song with his scatting.
Sadly missing from the album is "Do the Reggay," the 1968 song by Toots that many credit with giving reggae its name.