As for the songs, well, they're a composite of several styles, from current quasi-pop punk, to '80s big-hair metal, with shades of rock opera and glam rock tossed in for good measure. Perhaps more important, the songs have the sound that current FM-program directors love, a kind of safe, heavy sound, one that appeals to the alternative crowd as well as the Bic wavers.

Take, for example, the cut, "Hello, Hello." Starting out with big, brash chords in the intro, it soon drops to just a jangly guitar and vocals that have that tin-can old-AM-radio sound to them. As the music swells, the vocals get a bit dirtier, even snarling, till the chorus drops in, a guitar runs a few notes in support, and if you didn't know better, you'd swear it was Motley Crue. Then, whoosh, away with the noise, and a return to the quieter stuff (momentarily of course), a short section which bears a similarity to Oasis, or tunes of that ilk, before blasting off again.

Maybe it's the fact that the pieces fit together all too well that I suspect some sort of conspiracy, for you won't find a single mistake on the disc, not a hair out of place. And in one respect, that's a good thing, though I'm guessing there's been an engineer working his ProTools to death. On the other hand, the perfection gives the listener (well, this one at least) a feeling of coldness, of music too sterile. And although I'm bothered by the vibe I get, the hooks are there on several songs. It's good pop music with an edge. Heck, "Truth" even has bits that you'd swear were outtakes from Crue's Dr. Feelgood, and I like that.

A track such as "She Was Dead" attempts to mine the West Coast punk sound, but the band doesn't seem as successful as when they do the pop-metal stuff. But, again, that's neither here nor there, because if my instincts tell me anything (and they have in the past), you'll be hearing this band pumping out of the radio (and points elsewhere) for the next several months. The music is catchy and edgy enough to garner airplay in a variety of formats, and to get throngs of young girls swooning over the boys in the band. Meanwhile, I'll still be here scratching my head, trying to figure out what is bothering me about the disc.

And though the advance in my hands only contains five songs, it's enough to make me want to go out and buy the disc. His voice is silky smooth when needed, yet can also deliver rapid-fire rap should the song require it. Perhaps what gives him an advantage is the instincts gleaned from his DJ experience. Because on this sampler, the beat is the backbone of every song, and David doesn't miss at all. "What's Your Flava" has a funky, techno edge to it, with a heavy emphasis on the one beat, a pulsing that continues for the duration of the number. Over this, there is an electronic spice to the vocals that doubtless will remind you of the early days of synthesizers and funk.

The title cut has a street-level, hip-hop feel to it, with guitar and keyboard bits that loop, generating a hypnotic feel as the song progresses. David varies the vocals as well, from soulful singing, to falsetto bits, to low-toned spurts of syllables. And one thing is evident from the title track: David is indeed slicker than most.

He is at home on ballads, as his performance on "Personal" makes clear. With a hint of things Japanese as the intro begins, he soon begins mixing slow notes with rapidly delivered phrasing similar to his last hit, "Fill Me In." And though his voice may not have a signature tone to it, like, say, Prince or James Brown, it is still early in the game for David, and such idiosyncrasies often take time to develop.

Yet given the quality of the songs here, David is clearly a wine that can be enjoyed young, without fear of a headache. Production is top notch, as expected from a good DJ. The material gives him room to express himself and show his talent, and more importantly, the world of R&B finds a stellar star, one who, lest success swells his head, should continue to populate the musical universe for years to come.

One thing that is clear after listening to this disc from his recent television special is that he is the focus of the songs, despite all the stars appearing with him. For example, on "Mendocino County Line," Lee Ann Womack shares the vocals with him, and her voice is smooth and lustrous in the way that female country singers can be, verging on shrill, trembling just a bit, a mix of honey and salt that gets you to thinking. But when Willie sings, in his world-weary voice, a bit shaky, yet as comfortable as a good pair of jeans, you tend to forget who is with him. Despite all the beauty in Womack's voice, it is the quirkiness of Nelson's that draws you in time and again. And you picture him, with that beat-up Martin guitar with the hole worn below the strings, long braided hair, probably a bandanna, and you think, how did he become a star?

Again, it's the songs. As "Always on My Mind" with Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora takes off, the familiarity of the tune beckons like an old friend. Yet when Willie sings his first line, and the cheers of the audience fill the air, it's almost time for goose bumps as you reflect on the contribution Nelson has made to the music world. Because for all the slickness of Bon Jovi's voice, in the phrasing of Nelson's, there is that much more feeling, the way he bends the timing of the lyrics, shortening them in spots, but still maintaining the integrity of the song. And the same can be said for his guitar work, which is often underrated. He attacks his notes in a way that few other guitarists do, hanging on for uneven durations, shaking and punching, yet solid.

His impact on music is apparent from the diverse stars that share the stage with him. From rock to country and parts in between – Sheryl Crow, Rob Thomas, Keith Richards, Emmylou Harris, Vince Gill, Ray Price – all are respectful of taking the stage with a legend. But it's Nelson's image that runs so counter to legend status (which he deserves), that it's easy to underestimate him. Clearly, those in the know don't. Listening to Ryan Adams, Keith Richards, Hank Williams III, and Nelson belt out "Dead Flowers" is one highlight of the disc, just for the strange mix of it all. The pairing of Nelson with Norah Jones on "Lonestar" is yet another, where the contrast in vocals is a study in texture. And hearing Nelson sing Jimmy Cliff's "The Harder They Come" is well worth the trip (Willie doing reggae? Fuhggetaboudit).

In the end, though there are better Nelson discs at hand, Willie has always been about sharing his music with others, and this one provides a good example of not just his depth, but his reach as well. And if he has to step back to let someone else sing for a bit, or take a guitar lead, I imagine that's all right with him. He keeps plugging away, and unlike Elvis, who in his later years became a parody, Nelson remains an authentic icon.