Singers of a Certain Age Maturity doesn’t mean passe’ for these performers

Time keeps on slippin’… into oblivion, but there are some who make the ride look easy. Not ignoring the young ones and their trendiness, they pretty much stick to what they do best. They seem to have an inner source of creative hydration. They don’t merely repeat past successes – rather, they build organically upon their achievements so that they don’t look desperate to reinvent themselves.

There are many who fit this description (and many more who don’t – the casinos and Branson, Mo., are filled with them). Here are but three examples, all with brand new product out.

PETER WOLF (64) is the Zelig of rock music. He’s known primarily for his run as lead singer for the J. Geils Band, but he’s been a disc jockey, he’s hung around with blues greats like Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf, he roomed with bizarro director David Lynch when both were struggling artists and he actually is an artist whose paintings are in demand.

He may look like a ravaged casualty of the rock and roll life, but his mind and voice are remarkably clear. He’s put out three worthy solo albums, “Fool’s Parade” and “Sleepless” being particularly excellent.

His new one, “MIDNIGHT SOUVENIRS,” is probably his best. Teaming with lyricist Will Jennings on most songs, Wolf has written a batch of new tunes that are emotionally mature and still swinging. His band is top-drawer and the sound is open, spacious and full. Every song shows care in the arranging, with judicious use of backing vocals, horns and unique instrumentation. There’s no hint of fussiness, though. The overall feeling is of relaxed self-confidence, with hard-won knowledge of what works and when.

He’s in touch with his country-loving side here, dueting with Shelby Lynne, Neko Case and Merle Haggard. Other tunes tilt toward R&B, rock and blues, with only Allen Toussaint’s “Everything I Do Gon’ Be Funky (From Now On)” and “Overnight Lows” flaunting undiluted rootsiness. The former is just that, a funky slice of hip New Orleans-flavored jive, while the latter is a remarkable recreation of Philly soul where the singer talks to his audience with vivid sincerity before laying down the truth in song – funny but respectful.

I can’t recommend this one highly enough.

SHARON JONES AND THE DAP-KINGS haven’t been recording (as a band) that long, with their first album coming out in 2002. Ms Jones (52) has been knocking around on the edges of show business since the ’70s. Born in Atlanta and raised in gospel-singing churches, she moved to New York, getting spot work as a background singer while making little headway in her solo career. She hooked up with The Soul Providers in the late ’90s, with only quickly-disappearing singles and a small of amount of European notoriety to show for it. Not until the retro-adoring folks at Daptone Records discovered her and surrounded her with the sharp-as-a-razor Dap-Kings did she hit her stride.

They’ve been accused of slavish devotion to ’60s soul, and they are guilty as charged. But what a groove to be stuck in! They record in analogue with vintage equipment and instruments, and the results are sublime. They’re not a cover band, though, with almost all-new material written by her bandmates filling their records. And therein lies the problem, as the batting average on song quality was a little spotty.

So I’m happy to report that their new one, “I LEARNED THE HARD WAY,” significantly raises the bar. The songs have an assured air that shows a more even, less-striving attitude. The opener “The Game Gets Old” sets the stage for what follows – a mid-tempo, wised-up report from the battlefield of love with a killer arrangement. The cover song follows with push-pull verses alternating with a wide-smiling chorus, never breaking a sweat. There’s not a bad (or even mediocre) cut on the record, and several more outstanding ones, especially “Better Things” and “Window Shopping.”

If soul music still affects your spine like it does mine (you know what I mean if it does), then you need this one, stat.

SOLOMON BURKE (70!) is enjoying a late-career renaissance. He was a second-tier soul artist in the ’60s, never charting a top-twenty hit (his song, “Got to Get You Off My Mind” was featured prominently in Nick Hornby’s great music-lover’s novel, High Fidelity). But since 2002’s superb “Don’t Give Up On Me,” he’s released a string of uniformly-solid records. He’s blessed with a huge voice matched with his now-huge frame, which necessitates him sitting in a gilded throne throughout concerts; his powers are undiminished.

“NOTHING’S IMPOSSIBLE” is his latest, and it teams him up with the late and legendary producer, Willie Mitchell (of Hi Records/Al Green fame). It fits right in with this column’s theme, for it’s a righteous and wonderful record. I feared that Mitchell would repeat the mistakes he made on the two “comeback” albums he produced with Green, where he piled stacks of horns on top of booming backing choruses, laid on busy and non-swinging arrangements with a pop gloss and sheen completely foreign to his classic work.

But he didn’t.

Instead we get Burke lording over the musical terrain like a still-virile lion. His voice has room to breathe in these arrangements, which are blessedly simplified and all-the-more devastating. From the Chi-lites-inspired “What A Feeling” to the Memphis soul of the title track, Burke delivers the goods. Each song rolls out like a ’60s Cadillac, sumptuous and assured. I particularly like “New Company” and “When You’re Not Here” but I’m not song-skipping, either. With the church in his soul and the devil in his knowing baritone, Burke cannot be denied.

I write this in the week between Jazz Fest weekends. A couple of observations – Jon Cleary is one brave dude, never stopping during an apocalyptic lightning shower that was blowing into his stage and on his electric piano. Luther Dickinson (of the North Mississippi Allstars) fronting the Black Crowes is completely satisfying.