Railroad Earth, Bird in a House (Sugar Hill Records, 2002)

There are moments in life of pleasant surprise and bliss that come upon you softly: a short, cool rain shower in the middle of a hot sunny afternoon; a meal that tastes far better than you expected; a pint of lager at the end of a hard day; and popping Railroad Earth's second release Bird in a House, into the CD player for the first time.

I was weaving down an Interstate cursing traffic and tapping my fingers to the bluegrass beat when the third track, "Like A Buddha," came on, and I suddenly lost my angst toward my fellow drivers and started smiling. I realized that I'd heard the song before a few times on National Public Radio, but never caught the name of the band. And now here it was in my CD player.

Like I said, pleasant surprise and bliss.

The band -- Todd Sheaffer on lead vocals and acoustic guitars, Tim Carbone on violin and vocals, Dave Von Dollen on upright bass and vocals, Carey Harmon on percussion and vocals, John Skehan on mandolin and vocals, and Andy Goessling on acoustic guitars, banjo, resophonic guitar, mandolin, pennywhistle, flute, saxophones and vocals -- hasn't been together long. Formed in 2001, according to their Web site, the group went from "rehearsing a handful of songs in an old barn in Stillwater, N.J., to playing their second consecutive year at the renowned Telluride Bluegrass Festival."

Telluride was only Railroad Earth's 10th live performance. Talk about steaming down the fast-track. In fact, their debut, The Black Bear Sessions, was just ten songs laid down as a demo to get to Telluride, but Sugar Hill ended up releasing it after they signed on.

Like any good band, Railroad Earth's strength is in their musical ability, and that fact shines through on Bird in a House. These guys can write, sing and play, but moreover, they do it as tightly as a group that's performed together for years.

They also manage to do it all with so much innovation they turn bluegrass on its ear, giving it a sound as fresh as a mountain stream. Just listen to "Like a Buddha": mandolin, drums, violin, flute, clarinet, acoustic guitar and pop harmonies create a sound that, quite honestly, is not at all what you'd expect after the first two, more traditional, tracks ("Drag Him Down," "Bird in a House") on this release. Which brings up an interesting point: notice the word "violin," which is how it's listed in the liner notes. Usually, bluegrass is associated with "fiddles." But Carbone's playing is an amalgamation of styles; there's as much sweet orchestral violin as down-home fiddle in everything he plays on this release. That's especially apparent on "Buddha." And while there is technically a difference (string number) between a true fiddle and a violin, calling the instrument one or the other is, for many musicians, largely a matter of choice.

Speaking of violins and fiddles, the band swings straight into the up-tempo, foot-stomping "Pack a Day" next. Carbone's violin is blistering, and this instrumental moves along faster than Casey Jones's locomotive, and the band even throws a jazzy curve in toward the end. But fear not; unlike the ill-fated engineer, they don't derail.

Where "Buddha" and "Pack" are bouncy and upbeat, "Mountain Time" is slow and bittersweet. This lonely lament, with its tearful violin, has a melody that haunts like a train whistle long after the song has passed. "Bird in a House," the title track, is poignant look at being trapped -- either in a relationship, or in a mold that you don't fit. Sheaffer sings of a bird wanting so desperately to get out of the house that it's flown into; to get "with its own kind," that the creature is willing to "smash its way out." When you look at the powerful image these lyrics create -- a frail creature flying into walls it can't possibly hope to break down, fully prepared to kill itself trying -- you get a sense of the song-writing ability this group has.

"Give That Boy a Hand" is a fine lesson in life, and one of my favorites on an album that contains so many good songs it's hard to pick and choose. Another up-tempo tune, it's an ode to perseverance in tough times, trusting in luck, and live-and-let-live. The opening lyrics say it all:

And, speaking of roots, with its plucky mandolin and banjo, sweet melody and powerful lyrics, the gospel-like "Peace on Earth" is a nod to bluegrass' spiritual traditions. It's especially poignant at a time when so much of the world is in conflict. If Railroad has a theme, though, it's perseverance. "Came Up Smiling," with some graceful harmonies and clever humour, is another song about stick-to-itiveness. When everyone else assumes the worst, little Johnny comes through intact. And that, perhaps, is what Railroad Earth is all about: succeeding where so many others have failed. They've proven nay-sayers wrong by having what amounts to two strong debut albums; they've taken a style that in other hands would seem stale and made it fresh; and they've managed to get airplay with a song that defies categorization.

I hope they stay on track, continuing to break trends and make great music. After all, there's miles of track to travel out there.