Well, maybe not. After lo these many years on the New Orleans scene, sometimes it feels as if we’re just getting to know Jamie Bernstein, formerly J. the Savage. As an Americana songwriter he revealed more than ever before on 2014’s WhoonDang, but the flat, two-dimensional quality of his lyrics made it hard to connect to him on anything but a surface level. Although undeniably talented, he never seems to find the exact right outlet, although his latest album is another significant step forward.

Perhaps realizing that his storytelling needs a little work, Jamie’s decided to crank up the atmospheric aspect of his particular vision, enlisting a perfect band full of NOLA scene vets—jazz, mostly. Jazz cats have never been anything but good for country, and this disc sports Johnny Vidacovich on drums, Pat Casey on acoustic bass and the city’s finest pedal steel man in Dave Easley (not to mention two Zion Harmonizers guest spots). With these ten songs he’s sort of created his own hesitant look at the dark, shadowy side of Americana, less an attempt at Music from Big Pink and more like a Cowboy Junkies filter on Elton John’s Tumbleweed Connection. None of these cultural touchstones are bad (not even the title track, which sounds like it wants to break into Nazareth’s “Dream On”) but Jamie’s voice is not always suited to the low country croak he’s written the songs in.

The atmosphere is perfect, however: His raggedness sounds right, more often than not. And although lyrically it sags like before, the new setting—which makes his own second pass at “Talkin’ Bout Love” seem deeper by default—seems to be challenging him. As the album comes to a close he lets his vulnerability take over and there’s suddenly some emotional focus: a train ride remembered in “You’re Gone” or the quivering observation in “Take Me Inside” that “her blue eyes swore I was the one.” Bernstein’s muse remains one of excellent taste, but oh, it moves so slowly.