We live in a society that simultaneously celebrates and is suspicious of career resurgences. Say an athlete storms back from what was thought to be a career-ending injury, or manages to blossom late in their career. Whispers of performance-enhancing drugs are sure to follow. Or say an actor makes a surprise return to the spotlight after an extended period outside the public eye. Suspicious minds will wonder if it was addiction, financial ruin, or legal problems that forced their exodus in the first place. "Career resurgence" is a loaded term. But that load isn't always fully charged.

Take the case of Rodney Crowell, who makes his first ACL Fest appearance this year.

The Houston native moved to Nashville in his early 20s, where he found company among fellow struggling ex-pats like Guy Clark, Townes Van Zandt, and Steve Earle (friendships immortalized in the great Heartworn Highways). Crowell eventually landed a prime spot in Emmylou Harris's Hot Band, where he honed his lyrical chops with songs like "I Ain't Living Long Like This." After a couple of years, he left to form the short-lived (though later resurrected) Cherry Bombs, and then struck out on his own.

While Crowell found some measure of success writing and producing for his wife, Rosanne Cash, plus a small handful of top-50 hits ("Stars on the Water," "Victim or a Fool"), it would be nearly another decade before he truly staked his claim on Nashville.

1988's Diamonds & Dirt cracked Billboard's top 10 and spawned five #1 singles, seemingly cementing Crowell's place among Music Row royalty. But he and Cash soon divorced, and his songwriting began to evolve away from radio-friendly country-pop and toward introspective country-soul. He continued to record and to write for himself and others, but the mainstream success that was once so certain now proved elusive.

Shortly after turning 50, Crowell perhaps unwittingly embarked on a career resurgence. 2001's The Houston Kid provided a powerful look back at life's first half-century, reminding critics and fans alike of Crowell's continued relevancy. Despite the lack of radio hits, the album still managed to chart in the top 50 — a streak that continued with odd-year releases Fate's Right Hand and The Outsider, albums that found Crowell channeling into song his frustration and dismay over a world seemingly gone mad.

The disillusionment theme continues with this month's release of Sex and Gasoline, wherein Crowell sets his sights on our society's treatment of women:

Tired ol' story, sad but true
We mama's boys got it in for you
Our faults are many, our virtues nil
We never loved you, we never will
Ah come on now girl, it's time we both come clean
This mean old world runs on sex and gasoline

We objectify ("Sex and Gasoline"). We lust ("Funky and the Farm Boy"). We prey ("I Want You #35"). We silence ("The Rise and Fall of Intelligent Design"). The songwriter casts a broad and shameful gaze.

Yet despite society's ills, Crowell manages to find redemptive tenderness in the boundless love in a parent's heart ("I've Done Everything I Can"), solace in aging with the one you love ("The Night's Just Right"), and grace in the friends and small comforts of life ("Closer to Heaven").

Under the minimalist production of Joe Henry, Crowell has produced what is arguably his finest work since The Houston Kid — and just may be the best of his career thus far.

Rodney Crowell plays on the AT&T stage Friday, Sept. 26 at 12:30 p.m.

Listen:

"Sex and Gasoline"

"I've Done Everything I Can"

"The Night's Just Right"

"Funky and the Farm Boy"

Buy:

Lone Star Music, Amazon, iTunes