Ryan Adams' drug problems and public tantrums have often overshadowed his music. But Cardinology may put an end to that.

His first release in a year — notable for a guy who put out three (albeit spotty) full-lengths in 2005 — it's the record he has spent the past few years promising but never quite delivering. Drunk on melody, high on musical history, but all his own, the record throbs with great playing and singing, and thrums with hope without pimping easy platitudes. It's one of the best things he's ever done. Cardinology is a classic-rock record to the bone, nodding to influences that Adams has conjured before but never so well: the country rock of the Grateful Dead and Gram Parsons, the arena anthems of U2.

It begins with four killers in a row: 'Born Into a Light' prays for faith amid troubles over a Tex-Mex melody, weepy pedal steel and gospel-tinged vocals; 'Go Easy' is a breathless love pledge with heartland-rock hooks; 'Fix It' is a plea for psychic repair that meshes a slithery R&B groove with a soaring Bono-style chorus; and 'Magick' is pure mindless garage-rock pleasure, notwithstanding the geopolitical apocalypse lurking in its lyrics ('You're like a missile strike/Government goes underground/Warhead on legs/What goes around comes around'). Then things settle down a bit — but despite overcooked nautical metaphors on 'Sink Ships,' they never slack. Cardinology's riveting finale is 'Stop,' a fragile piano ballad sung in a shaky voice that slowly gains strength and takes flight. It's clearly about rehab, and while rehab rock may be a bit of an oxymoron, Adams — who has reportedly cleaned up — defines a genre here. Magneti Marelli Software Rt3290.

If it helps undermine some of the bogus junkie myths about hard drugs and creativity, all the better.

As Adams continues to fly from the shelter of his sometime backing band to less restrictive solo recordings, it becomes clearer that, with band in tow, he has to make concessions so his friends can keep up. Solo releases Love Is Hell and Easy Tiger have marked the high points of the last four years. Here, however, the turgid, full-band bombast of the likes of Magick, or aimless country-rockisms of Let Us Down Easy see Adams shrink into a shadow of his former self. The songs just aren’t there, the effect a far cry from the Grateful Dead-cum-Sonic Youth Adams hears in his head. Thankfully, he gets these low points out of the way in the first half. Bottom-heavy Cardinology may be but, if you make it to the other side, you’ll find some gems.

Cardinology by Ryan Adams & The Cardinals. Adams clips own wings to play with his friends. Record Collector is the world's leading authority on rare and collectable.

Nothing quite reaches magnificent (closer Stop nearly does, perhaps being one of the best modern age songs to address addiction and rehab), but Crossed Out Name, Sink Ships and Evergreen have the right mix of emotion and atmosphere that you feel the album has been striving for. The Cardinals (when you can hear them) play it low-key, Adams soars and it becomes worth it in the end.