Don’t be fooled by that album title. The latest from soulful crooner Ray LaMontagne is not an extended look at the heartbreak of Hurricane Katrina. This is a guy whose music has been covered on American Idol and featured on numerous soundtracks and commercials, so he’s not about to drop that kind of downer on his audience.

But there’s no doubt that God Willin' and the Creek Don’t Rise is the singer-songwriter’s strongest bid yet for a little more artistic credibility. The album lands somewhere in a pleasant middle ground between indie striving and mainstream accessibility, and should do nothing to alienate LaMontagne’s legions of fans. In fact, it’s likely to draw in some new ones who might have been skeptical of his bona fides.

The Pariah Dogs are the crack team of session men and women LaMontagne has assembled for God Willin', his fourth album, and they are not merely on board to take a back seat to the singer’s soulful lamentations. They immediately forge their own identity on the scorchingly funky opening track, “Repo Man,” working up a breathless groove for several minutes before the vocals even enter the picture.

Once the vocals do arrive, you can hear how LaMontagne is energized by the setting, as he rides roughshod over the proceedings with a gritty and powerful performance that recalls vintage Joe Cocker. Even more eye-opening is his lyrical onslaught against a wayward woman, as he threatens to take her over his knee for her wicked ways. I can’t imagine that one making its way onto Idol.

Things get much less feisty from there, both musically and lyrically. That’s not to say the proceedings get dull though. The band’s secret weapon is pedal steel guitarist Greg Leisz. His high-lonesome riff sets the tone for the aching title track, and his emotional fills punctuate the yearning for the countryside on the Gram Parsons-like “New York City’s Killing Me,” which features LaMontagne’s best set of lyrics on the album.

Those lyrics don’t always hit home as much as the music. “Beg Steal Or Borrow” is reminiscent of some of the Allman Brothers’ plaintive ballads, but LaMontage’s lyrical advice comes off more hectoring than wise. And “Like Rock And Roll Radio,” an otherwise fine tale of romantic estrangement, is hindered by the clumsy simile of the title.

For all of the improvements that the band brings about, it’s hard to deny the beauty of “Are We Really Through.” In that song, the album’s emotional centerpiece, the instrumentalists drop away to a mere whisper, letting LaMontagne’s inevitable melody and his expertly-tempered vocal, full of emotion without emoting, work their magic. The result is heartrending perfection.

LaMontagne deserves a ton of credit for his willingness to mess with a winning formula. It’s as if he might be worried that his immensely affecting vocals might overwhelm his skills as a songwriter and get him lumped in with lightweights like James Blunt. He needn’t be concerned, because his respect for the music and his strong material will prevent that from happening.

But God Willin' and the Creek Don’t Rise just might mark a turning point for his career. With the Pariah Dogs in tow, it’s impossible to dismiss LaMontagne as just another pretty voice.

Adobe Flash Required for flash player. "Repo Man"

Adobe Flash Required for flash player. "New York City's Killing Me"

Adobe Flash Required for flash player. "Are We Really Through"