Wee hours spent sober and sodden judging by their apparent penchant for booze-soaked balladry, it seems safe to assume that kathleen edwards and nq arbuckle both know their way around bars - and we don't just mean the black sheep in wakefield, que., the renowned roots club the two singer/songwriters have been known to frequent. failer, edwards' 2002 full-length debut, and hanging the battle-scarred piñata, nq arbuckle's introduction of the same year, each testified in its own way to alcohol's eternal capacity to wreck lives and inspire terrific tunes. now, as coincidence would have it, both are back for another round. the edwards of back to me (maple music) isn't exactly reformed, but she seems a little closer to recognizing when she's reached her limit - which isn't necessarily true of her male companions. on the rocking and recriminatory opener "in state," the narrator is wise to potential bad influences: "you talk so sweet until the going gets tough," she sings. 'The last job you pulled was never big enough." on the equally rollicking title track, she's laying down her own law: "i've got ways to make you swear/ you won't want your old life anymore. 'The two tracks, loaded in at the front, prove to be the exception rather than the rule. the prevailing sentiment and tone of the disc's 11 tracks are yearning and reflection, beginning with the low-key introspection of "pink emerson radio." on "old time sake," edwards, trained from childhood on the violin, accompanies her own husky singing with strings, a combination she replicates on the lovely "copied keys." another standout, "somewhere else," is bolstered by richard underhill's tasteful brass arrangement. by the end, she almost sounds ready to settle down. no such conversion appears to be on the bloodshot horizon for neville quinlan, the toronto tunesmith who writes and records as nq arbuckle. of the dozen songs on the last supper in a cheap town (six shooter records), only one neglects mention of the kindred vices of drinking and smoking. whenever possible, both are woven in together. "we are smoking casually/ our smoky days away/ you kissed me back surprising/ with my drunken hands drunk driving/ through your hair," he sings on "angels and devils." those evocative couplets aside, the songwriting doesn't rise to the exalted heights of hanging the battle-scarred piñata, but the last supper is at least as solid as its predecessor musically, ranging from the bluegrass inflections of "outside the stars" to the comparatively minimal folk of "creaky old chair." quinlan's voice resounds again with world-weary regret, but credit also goes to the efforts of regular bandmates mark kesper, john dinsmore and peter kesper, as well as guest appearances by backing vocalist carolyn mark, who lends her twangy voice to "you look like a wreck," and producer luke doucet, who sprinkles in piano, banjo and guitar along the way. either of these discs would serve as welcome companionship in the wee hours of the morning. vit wagner thestar.com				Album reviews Feature articles Interviews Show reviews