Tribute albums are always a suspicious breed in that you wonder about the real motivation behind their release. Are they cheesy filler until the artist has enough material for the next album? Or is the artist that sincere about honoring their coveted icon? In the case of former New Orleans denizen Shannon McNally, it’s definitely the latter. It’s not the first time she has paid homage to Waylon Jennings, one of the ’70s outlaw country movement pioneers. On her 2009 Coldwater release, she covered “Lonesome, On’ry and Mean” and “Freedom to Stay.”

Performing a classic country benefit inspired McNally to revisit Jennings’ legacy. When everything fell into place, she had landed former Jennings steel ace Fred Newell, guitar wizard Kenny Vaughan and bassist Chris Scruggs of Marty Stuart’s Fabulous Superlatives to be in her crack studio band.

This is not a regurgitation of a Jennings greatest hits package with only renditions of number one and top 10 hits. But it does include “This Time” and “Mama Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Cowboys.” “You Asked Me To,” “Black Rose,” and “We Had It All,” all significant since they hail from Jennings’ 1973 seminal Honky Tonk Heroes album that’s sometimes cited as the birth of the country outlaw movement.

There are also songs Jennings never recorded, such as a couple by Kris Kristofferson, which are part of McNally’s vision to expand what Jennings could do, not necessarily what he did do during his lifetime. Kristofferson’s immortal “Help Me Make It Through the Night” finds McNally reaching her emotional apex with the most touching, heartfelt performance of the entire baker’s dozen tracks.

There are a few star turns as well with Jennings’ widow Jessi Colter, Buddy Miller, and Lukas Nelson. On the fiery “I Ain’t Living Long Like This,” she allows the song’s author, Rodney Crowell, to take the lead vocals on a verse.

In some ways, McNally’s renditions feel like a Jennings song, such as keeping the simple and alternating note bass patterns, though it’s not as pronounced here as it was back then. But in other ways, the arrangements are richer and fuller than Jennings’ preference for sparser, leaner backdrops. Instead, there’s more blazing soloing and jamming between electric guitar, steel, and keyboards with occasional call-and-response passages.

Even though Jennings’ recordings often felt muscularly masculine, somehow McNally makes them seem like they were destined to be sung by a woman, at least enough to where you sometimes forget about what’s-his-name.