When you’re a rambler,” Lost Bayou Ramblers’ Louie Michot once noted, “You’ve got to ramble.” Such a prophetic adage also holds true for Michot’s nomadic counterparts, the Red Stick Ramblers. In recent times, Josh Caffery, Ricky Rees and Joel Savoy have all rambled on to follow their muse. While such an exodus could conceivably trigger a band’s demise, luckily it didn’t. In walks bassist Eric Frey and Balfa Toujours’ fiddler Kevin Wimmer, hence ensuring the Ramblers’ longevity. Their third overall disc not only picks up where their previous laudable disc, Bring It On Down, left off, it also finds them burrowing deeper into the tightly threaded fabric of American roots music. Few others have jumped genres as often and as masterfully, still following an eclectic blueprint that includes such morsels as Bob Wills’ “That’s What I Like About the South” and the Cajun romper “Grand Texas,” that was later appropriated by Hank Williams as “Jambalaya.”

Along the way, there are frequent forays into jazz and swing, something that’s their strong suit as evidenced by the tear-it-up-versions of “It Ain’t Right” and the contagious title song. Having a monster fiddler like Wimmer in the line-up can only mean one thing: no shortage of bow-shredding bouts, bluesy slow drags and arty lush twin fiddling with fellow fiddler Linzay Young. While the Wimmer-Young tandem makes for a boiling cauldron, some of the disc’s best moments arrive (“Sweet & Slow”) when they trade back-and-forth licks with nimble-fingered guitarist Chas Justus who possesses one of the warmest vintage jazz sounds around.

Yet, the surprises hardly stop there. They practically invent a new sub-genre, string band zydeco, with a swaggering dip into Clifton Chenier’s “Hard to Love” with ivory genius/guest Wilson Savoy supplying a barrelhouse sensibility. Savoy is also heard bombing away on six others as is producer/pianist Dirk Powell who twinkles away on two more. Jambalaya’s Terry Huvall applies his tasty Western mettle on steel guitar on another deuce of tracks.

Whereas the aforementioned treasure trove would be a plentiful platter for any roots-centric ensemble, the Rambler’s four idiom-fitting originals reveal that there’s no growth cap in sight. Young tosses in a tender waltz, “La Valse de Chaoui” (“The Raccoon Waltz”); among Justus’ trio are the country weeper prison song “It’s Too Late” and the stirring “Sentimental” that rivals any magic they’ve ever conjured. With another landmark record in hand, the Red Stick’s ramble is far from over.