Garth Brooks is a pathetic superstar. He lacks the pomp of Freddie Mercury, the fashion of Madonna, the darkness of Johnny Cash and the strangeness of Prince and Michael Jackson. In his Chris Gaines character, he proved he cannot even make dual personality interesting. And yet, according to current Census reports, this amiable dullard named Garth has sold more records than any of them; he's sold more records than Tortoise, too. Why, he's even sold millions of CDs to that elusive, notoriously picky "deaf market". The achievement of this tribute album -- sixteen stripped-down "interpretations" of Garth Brooks songs performed by the original songwriters -- is that it shows how Brooks built the reputation that can make fifty-year old moms buy his records without hearing them first. As Chris Gaines should have already proved, it has nothing to do with Brooks' business sense, but everything to do with his amazing ear for good radio and concert music.

Even in their new, down-on-the-porch settings, you can smell the commercial appeal in these tracks. They instantly generate an emotion and a craving to sing along. If "Friends in Low Places" was on Waylon Jennings' Honky Tonk Heroes, it might feel less genuine than the Billie Jo Shaver-penned masterpieces, but it's the song that would bring you back to the record again and again. Like a commercial jingle, it's impossible to get out of your freaking head. The other great Blackwell song, "Mr Blue", is notable for being so stylistically different. It starts off like a long-lost Kingston Trio gem, then becomes a Neil Sedaka song for men who like hats.

The disparity in the two Blackwell gems makes him a quintessential "Garth Brooks" writer, as he wrote two well-deserved hits for two very different markets. Pat Alger has the same talent. The success of his "Thunder Road" baffles me, but its use of metaphor struck lightning upon the contemporary country market; his other hit, "Unanswered Prayers", is great Christian worship-and-praise pop in the vein of Rich Mullins. You may not like its aesthetics, but its rousing chorus would delight those who share its sentiments ("Remember when you're talking to the man upstairs/just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care/Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers") and who just plain enjoy sing-alongs.

Slightly homogenized worship-and-praise folk pop is an area where Brooks himself proves quite effective. He cowrote "Unanswered Prayers", as well as similar ventures like "We Shall Be Free" (with Kim Williams, whose voice is reminiscent of Emmylou Harris) and "The River" (with Victoria Shaw). Each have the same visceral power of Mullins' best work, but they're far better written, with no references to "Puttin' On the Ritz".

My favorite song here is Tony Arata's rendition of "The Dance". While the bluesy touches make his "Face to Face" pale against Garth Brooks' version, Tony definitely betters the man who made him rich with "The Dance". The lyrics, as with many numbers here, embrace sentimentality without apology, but the song's arrangement and sparse melody are a wet dream for anyone with a good voice. That's why the song struck gold for Brooks, and why it may do repeat business for Tony Arata.

All in all, the compilation works because the performers' "tribute to the man who made them rich" is a wonderful testament to their accomplished skills. If your love for country doesn't go beyond a Mickey Newbury or Townes Van Zandt, feel free to skip this mainstream gem -- but it's the best way for any Brooks-hater to approach the superstar's body of work. As with Julie Gold's album of demos, Dream Loud, this CD proves that very little luck is involved in making a songwriter rich. The individuals who built Garth's legend have the wonderful gift to write songs that make the whole world -- including the "deaf market" -- sing. And it's not yet time to shut 'em up.