The cult of the American songwriter centers on personality, but that’s never been a problem for Greg Brown. The Iowa-born singer made his name on a run of albums from the late-’80s to early-’00s that blend folksy Midwestern storytelling with a strong dose of his freewheeling, pissing-shirtless-under-the-stars brand of charm. It’s not far from the lyrical tropes exaggerated to the point of kitsch on pop-country radio, and there’s no denying that a listener’s appreciation for Brown likely rests on whether they think an aging white man has anything interesting to say about America in 2016. But there’s also no denying that Brown’s best songs—like “Brand New ’64 Dodge,” which tackles the loss of innocence in the wake of JFK’s assassination without ever mentioning the event itself—exhibit a lyrical deftness that explains why so many consider him a national treasure. NATHAN TUCKER