Entering into their third album together, it’s about time everyone stops mentioning what an odd and unconventional pairing Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan make and instead shift their focus to the growing body of distinct and affecting work the esteemed duo have created together. For those clamoring for a Screaming Trees reunion, another Lanegan solo album, or for Campbell to return to Belle & Sebastian, it’s just not going to happen (for the time being), and we should all just celebrate the fact that these two continue to make music together, especially since their new record, Hawk, is their strongest, most adventurous album to date.

The subtle chemistry between the two continues to flourish here, as they grow more comfortable sharing vocal duties within the close confines of these lush arrangements. Once again, Campbell handled the songwriting, arranging and production responsibilities on this record, bringing in Lanegan (and Willy Mason on two tracks) to add vocals over her final mixes, and their burgeoning familiarity makes that unorthodox recording process ultimately sound quite natural and seamless. The shear magnetism of the artists, as well as the strength of the songs themselves, shines brightly on Hawk, which hearkens back to a simpler time when the variable stations on the radio would form the soundtrack to any road trip, as this album audibly presents the listener with a guided tour of the most fervent aspects of classic, rugged Americana.

The plaintive ‘We Die And See Beauty Reign’ opens the record elegantly, with a stark acoustic guitar augmenting the duo’s wistful vocals. But the southern stomp of ‘You Won’t Let Me Down Again’ (featuring a searing solo by former Smashing Pumpkins guitarist James Iha) truly gives the album its spark, which carries over into the urgent escapism of ‘Snake Song,’ the first of two Townes Van Zandt covers featured on Hawk. ‘Come Undone’ is the type of smoky, soulful number that Campbell and Lanegan truly excel at, building the sensual tension of the track around their shared electricity, as well as a seductive piano line and a gorgeous string arrangement. It’s quite jarring to hear Mason’s vocals on ‘No Place To Fall’ (the second of the Van Zandt covers), especially after growing used to hearing Lanegan’s gravely voice throughout the album, and while it’s a lovely version of the song, Mason’s collaboration with Campbell seems a bit awkward, especially on an album bearing both Lanegan and Campbell’s name.

But things get back on track in a hurry with the bluesy swagger and swing of ‘Get Behind Me,’ which is reminiscent of modern-era Bob Dylan. It’s a great, straight-ahead rock song that certainly shakes up the middle half of the record. ‘Time Of The Season’ has a lilt to it that echoes Campbell’s time in B&S, and is one of the few instances on the record where it seems like her gentle vocals are showing Lanegan the way. The title-track is a jazz-funk instrumental fusion that is surprising, but doesn’t seem to fit properly in the running order of the record, especially when placed directly before ‘Sunrise,’ which features just Campbell on vocals, and is far and away the quietest song on the record. It’s a sweet song, but coming directly after the raucous ‘Hawk,’ it just seems a bit tired, as does ‘To Hell & Back Again,’ which again features only Campbell on vocals. With a title that dire, you’d think she would sound a bit wounded and broken here, but her wispy vocals don’t convey any of that pain, unfortunately.

The record’s second half continues to drag a bit with ‘Cool Water,’ which features Mason’s second vocal contribution. Lanegan returns after a prolonged four-song absence with the countrified ‘Eyes Of Green,’ and his presence gets things heading back in the right direction, despite the fact that it’s a brief, simple song. ‘Lately’ closes the album in a stately manner, with the gospel-tinged backing vocals perfectly augmenting both Lanegan’s promise of unending devotion and the sweet, dulcet tones of the Hammond organ. It’s a remarkably uplifting song that really represents a fine, optimistic departure for the all-too-somber duo. ‘Lately’ not only ends the album on a completely high note, but it also saves the languid second half of the record from being mildly forgettable.

It seems that Campbell is now drawing far more inspiration from the sound and style of America than she ever has from her native Scotland, and who better than Lanegan to help her navigate the gritty nuances and dusty backroads of the country’s disparate musical genres. On Hawk it appears that Campbell is finally finding her way on her own, and might actually be teaching Lanegan a thing or two about what it means to be a drifter constantly in search of something new.