Let us now praise the lap steel. Where I come from, it's widely regarded as one of the hardest and most haunting instruments, one that inspires utter obsession in the chosen few who tackle it. While some folks may dismiss it as a twangy gloss on a traditional country tune, the lap steel is far more versatile and potent. We have a fellow here in Austin by the name of Lloyd Maines who, on any given song, might unleash more blistering pyrotechnics than the frizziest of metal hairbands -- and yet he'll collar the fury and tie it back to the original tune with a weeping coda so penetrating that you'll choke on your beer. This is Texas, and that's what pedal steel's all about.

Now, Norfolk & Western ain't Texans, but God help 'em, they're working on it. I'm not saying this is a lap steel tour de force, since that most holy of instruments only shows itself here and there throughout Centralia. And when it does, it's more ambient than show-stealing. Imagine Brian Eno playing your favorite honky-tonk -- Music for Ethereal Shitkickers, perhaps. Yet these fellows, like the aforementioned Mr. Maines, know how to evoke a mood. Along with the other sedated, breathing instruments, the lap steel, in the hands of these skilled provocateurs, leaves you with something more than the mere sum of its parts.

Each track shows the influence of heady, mellow country -- such as Giant Sand, with whom N & W have toured. The mood and the tempo is always sluggish, which suits this lolling group just fine. Peppering the refreshingly sloppy performances are odd bits and pieces of found sound and handheld mic recordings, all of which help make this more of a soundtrack or soundscape than a collection of tunes.

Something must also be said about the CD's delightful packaging. Packed in textured cardboard and embossed with elegant stamps, Centralia is so striking that Steve Albini would be wise to emulate it for the next Shellac release.