No one ever accused the four-piece band Jabe of being subtle. The band's third album, "Drama City," busts out of the gate with revved-up string horsepower and speed banjo. Frontman/ songwriter Jabe Beyer has a rock-and-roll heart and bluegrass hands, and his band pulls off the rare feat of fusing rock energy with authentic folk spirit. Unlike some bands that use acoustic instruments as stage props, the mandolin and banjo are full players in Jabe's music. Drum sets are never used in bluegrass and rarely in live folk performances, but the snare/banjo combination makes for a distinctively rickety, frenetic quality that expertly sets the album's mood. Dave Westner plays drums and co-produced the album; omnipresent Boston musician Sean Staples takes banjo, fiddle, and mandolin. Beyer howls about mistakes and frustrations. His album, is dark. "Dirty old rags or a silk white shirt, either way they're just gonna cover you in dirt," he growls cynically in "Cold Cold Wind." But Beyer's directness can be funny. One uncensored lyric draws a line from the id to the gut: he comments about a lover that "she's writing her dissertation on poetry, she's gonna be a doctor-- what the hell's she doing blowing me." "Into a Wall" is the plaint of a Boston bar band gigging for $24 a night in smoky rooms, while "Crazy Anne Marie" paints, with broad strokes, a "Misery"-like tale of an axe-wielding girlfriend. Beyer presents himself as a beer-drinking outlaw, but under the raucous rough-thatch, there's poetry in his music as well. He has a gift for capturing "sensitive" moments. In one song, he recalls, wistfully: "all the times you said you loved me and I didn't even blink." Beyer sings about failure, hopelessness, and ennui, but he views losers (including himself) and ex-lovers with compassion. "Pitch Black Road" expresses sympathy for societal underdogs in a raspy whisper. Yet another breakup song, "Honest as Pure Gold," encourages the future while it mourns the past: "And all the dreams that you had, it don't mean they won't come true/And all the nights, beautiful when the shadows fell on you."

"Drama City" expresses a unified vision. Most of the songs boast a rushing wall of sound and a cinematic sweep -- "Damn Them Big Brown Eyes," "Jerk," "You'd Think I'd Learn." Although the album circles around familiar themes, the songs don't get stale. Beyer may be drinking from the dregs of the last beer in the bar, but as the depression-fueled drums and mandolin barrel forward, you can't help but tap your foot. He is a great songwriter, and this is a great, great album.

"Drama City" reflects two recent folk album trends: (1) a track where the band messes up and starts over but leaves the mistake on the recording and (2) video-enhanced CD tracks to play on your computer. The do-over shtick is an obvious ploy to make the album seem more "casual" and informal, but hey -- it works. The videos, however, which record live performances, are less successful. "Cold Cold Wind" is arty, "Those Times Are Over" is okay, "Stupid Boy" is jumpy and unsteady. There's something embarrassing about watching a local band on the video screen -- it's like looking at your fellow bleary barflies when the lights go up at 1:55 in the morning. It's nice to have a few extra songs, but if you live in New England, don't bother with the video footage. Go see Jabe live.

Danielle Dreilinger reviews folk, bluegrass and country music for WBUR, Boston's NPR News station.