If Louisiana Summer were a person—and this reviewer has no idea how closely it resembles its artist, former Onlies leader Will Payne Harrison—it would be a likable chap, earthy but upbeat, genial, open-hearted, honest. Realness has never been his problem. But Harrison’s voice hasn’t gotten any stronger or more assured since leaving his old band, and neither have his lyrics. Without former co-lead Fawn Wilson’s cowboy chanteuse vocals, his songs are remarkably plain, almost amateurish on his solo debut, and that’s not said idly. There are any number of phrases here borrowed from other, better sources, like his assertion of “three chords and the truth” (thank you, Harlan Howard) or his problem with “grasping at the wind” (Donovan trying to be Dylan) or the first of his “102 Reasons” to be in love: “Because you’re you” (Victor Talking Machine Company, 1907).

Summer certainly sounds like a first-rate Americana album, recorded as it was in Nashville with fiddle and mandolin accompaniment, and you certainly can’t fault Will’s faith, his openness, or his positivity. On “Louisiana Rain,” he even comes pretty close to creating something personal, a travelogue about meeting sketchy people in sketchy places and then finding yourself drenched in longing for home. For once, his often flat and wobbly vocals sound vulnerable, not merely hesitant. But that moment is a rare one for Louisiana Summer, and as for the rest, well, sometimes even the transparency of his quest can come back and bite his ass: “Blaze a new trail/ Don’t be afraid to fail/ Just make up the words as you sing.”