Reviews of the new records by James Blunt and Kellie Pickler


James Blunt, Moon Landing
Blunt’s been pouring white-wine spritzers for nearly 10 years, and still tips in the cheap, syrupy stuff on his fourth album — you might shed “a silent tear” after his umpteenth invocation of hearts (they’re shallow, they’re bonfires, they’re beating…). But when he loosens up, you get charmers like the cleverly island-flavored “Postcards” and musical-theater-y “Satellites” — which still champions a certain vital organ over technology. B-Nick Catucci

Kellie Pickler, The Woman I Am
Don’t let her Dancing With the Stars win fool you — Pickler has blossomed into a true Nashville rebel with a passion for raucous twang and classic country melodrama. Her fourth album ditches modish pop-country for old-school songs about cheating (“Ring for Sale”) and her pistol-packin’ great-grandma (“Selma Drye”). But she shines brightest on the autobiographical title track: “Daddy taught me how to drink like a man/That’s just the woman I am.” B+Grady Smith