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Recorded in Joshua Tree, California, and Nashville, Tennessee, Melbourne-based Chris Pickering’s fourth full-length release resonates with the musical nous these places are known for. A melding of warm desert-rock with tinges of old country define his nine songs, heavy on the guitars, floating vocals, pedal steel and a smattering of strings. There’s a shimmer to songs like Canyons, which opens the record, its guitar line carrying a subtle ’60s surf motif as the steel moves in the background like heat-haze off bitumen, Pickering’s voice swirling with it. Some psych bounce defines others, like Circles, which brings to mind a slightly less free-wheeling Chris Robinson Brotherhood, while others are stripped and acoustic (Andalusia, Broke My Own Heart), with the focus on Pickering’s voice. The sealer is The Wash, which closes the record, a behemoth of a track that builds and builds, churning, finally fading out on simple picked guitar, quiet as the atmospherics simmer down and die. Co-produced by Adrian Mauro (Machine Age) and Andrija Tokic (Alabama Shakes), Canyons is Pickering’s finest work to date: Americana taken to a glorious new level. SAMUEL J. FELL