Boats to Build reconvenes the team from 1988’s Old Friends, but this time the performances are fleshed out further, as if Clark is adding curtains and a rug to a room that once contained only a blanket and a lamp. Miles Wilkinson’s clean, naturalistic production once again stays out of the way in order to get the crucial details in these performances — Clark’s whispered growl, or the resonance that a metal slide makes against Dobro strings. “Picasso’s Mandolin” is a symbol for the freedom every artist needs to make his best work. “Could be cubes it could be curves,” sings Clark, “I like to mix the paint with nerve.” It’s a description that applies to “Baton Rouge,” “Ramblin’ Jack and Mahan” and “Must Be My Baby,” songs that use precision imagery to represent worlds of love, regret and loss. In the best possible sense, Boats to Build is an old man’s album. These songs are about reflection — about how you process several decades’ worth of experiences after the dust has settled. Clark is one of the few songwriters who really thrives in that space, and with his gentle gruffness and dry humor, he is the ideal narrator.