No artist gets to decide how they'll be remembered. If, as seems increasingly likely, Nick Lowe ends up remembered as the guy who penned "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love and Understanding" back in the early 1970s, surely the songwriter will be satisfied.

Yet fans and followers of Lowe know there's a nearly endless stream of legitimate second (or first) choices for pick of his defining moment. As a member of Brinsley Schwarz, Lowe helped bridge pub rock to punk. Lowe inaugurated the Stiff label with his single "So It Goes", and more explicitly helped pave the way for punk's indie movement by producing the Damned's epochal "New Rose". He subsequently produced key tracks for the Pretenders and several albums for Elvis Costello.

But maybe most impressive of all Lowe's feats was "The Beast in Me", a song from his 1994 comeback album The Impossible Bird, long after he had faded from pop prominence. Later that same year, the song also became the best non-stunt cover of one-time father-in-law Johnny Cash's late-career comeback. It was a cred-boosting number all around, and proved once and for all Lowe's worth as a songwriter in the classic sense rather than just a snide wit with an ear for hooks. His nickname "Basher" stemmed from his ability/compulsion to just crank out songs, but The Impossible Bird and songs like "The Beast in Me" showed a more considered, thoughtful, patient side to Lowe.

Fittingly and full circle, in many ways Lowe owes this mellow change of direction to "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love and Understanding". Curtis Stigers covered the song on the soundtrack to "The Bodyguard", and in Lowe's own words it was like someone suddenly dumped a bag of money on his doorstep. Free from commercial considerations, Lowe started exploring his love of classic country, soul, r&b and crooner jazz, a path that continues with the new At My Age.

There's been some talk of this most recent stage of Lowe's career as being too sentimental, or sans balls. But while Lowe's hardly up to his old tricks, his new tricks have more than their share of pleasures. If Lowe used to attack pop songs with a punk's cynicism and an ironic streak a mile wide, these days he exudes the illusion that he's settled down and settled in when in fact he's been happily exploring formalism with a sly wink. By his account, he started taking his guitar out to the country and playing old dancehalls, letting the new material breath and live a little until it resembled the pre- and early-rock era he aimed to emulate.

In fact, both Lowe and his press materials have made a big deal about distinguishing the covers from the originals contained on At My Age, and Lowe's last few records have made a similar game of spotting the genuine classic amidst the songs that simply sound like genuine classics. It's a cleverly subversive strategy in its own right, the grey-haired and grown-up ex-punk making music his dad would have liked, though experience has added an air of increased authenticity to songs such as "A Better Man" and the almost imperceptibly skanking "Long Limbed Girl".

Indeed, now Lowe is 58, both his parents have passed, and he's an unlikely first time dad, so it's somewhat hard to imagine him twisting the earnest sentiments of Charlie Feathers' "A Man in Love" to suit his former sarcastic mode. Of course, Lowe can still be funny, too, as he is on "The Club", which begins "If you've ever had someone come along/ Reach in, pull out your heart and break it/ Just for fun/ As easy as humming a song/ Join the club." On "People Change" (which features Chrissie Hynde and some nice Stax horns), he basically dismisses the call of nostalgia with a blithe but affable declaration of "People change/ That's the long and short of it."

"Now, you say those times you had were never that many/ Just be thankful you had any/ And cut yourself a slice of reality," Lowe gently advises, and he seems to have taken his own advice and moved on.

At his age, Lowe's still young enough to get away with making music in his former mode, but he's old enough to know better. Instead of looking to the recent past for inspiration, he's looked to the even more distant past, if only because it's the music that-- square or not-- currently makes him the most happy and content. And for 33 minutes or so, if you follow Lowe's lead and let loose any baggage you might be carrying, you're likely to be as happy as he is, too.