By Adrian Mack, Music Writer-It takes some guts to release a double album, but Vancouverite ( by way of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania ) Rodney DeCroo has never been faint of heart or short on inspiration. His 2006 breakthrough War Torn Man (dedicated to his Vietnam Vet father) was struck from a soundboard recording on the last date of a grueling cross-prairie tour, thereby amounting to an accidental masterpiece. DeCroo could have polished those songs to a pristine glow in the studio, but he didn't. He followed in 2008 with a softly devastating tour through the shadows called Mockingbird Bible, (with Sam Parton of The Be Good Tanyas and Ida Nilsen of Great Aunt Ida) and we all went with him. In between he found the time to collaborate with Rae Spoon on Trucker's Memorial; burnishing his reputation even further, all while establishing his place at the very heart and soul of Canada's roots community with relentless touring and sizzling live sets pregnant with tension and beauty. And there were explosive nights when the tension was more than just pregnant, but that's what you get when an artist pours everything - good and bad - into his art. In the meantime, DeCroo emerged as something of a phenomenon, casting a long shadow over the Vancouver kids coming up behind him in the singer-songwriters' scene who wanted a piece of his troubled mojo and endless creativity. His fifth release, Queen Mary Trash, is like DeCroo with the lid off. And you knew it was coming. Those of us who can't get enough will rejoice over some 90 minutes of the man and his regular collaborators - guitarist-producer Jon Wood, bassist Ryen Frogett, drummer Ed Goodine, and vocal partner Carolyn Mark - all in full control of their craft. Each of the 24 songs on Queen Mary Trash is captured in its peak structure and arrangement, even when there's still a little gravel thrown across the studio floor. As ever, what makes DeCroo so vital is the weight of his own world, whether it's the powerful sense of disgust expressed cryptically in “Napoleon Hill” (named after the author of Think and Grow Rich) or in the more blatantly scathing takedown of “Paris Spleen”. But he scales new heights on tracks like the hymn to self-loathing, Minatour. Such a thing is hardly unusual in DeCroo's world, but never has he given such flesh to a character's inner-tumult, or such affecting imagery. They said my birth, it was obscene,he howls. Same goes for You Ain't No One, in which DeCroo takes a forensic scalpel to his own place in the music world, while the unbearable humidity of Van City resonates because the underbelly of the city is something DeCroo has actually borne witness to. But Queen Mary Trash is also a rock album, at least when it wants to be. Riverboat is all vicious crunch and skronk, like Dylan with Mick Ronson by his side, and the gloves are also off for Night Field Again - both featuring guest spots from Kris Welch and Ryan Olszewski, of Vancouver's late, lamented No Horses. Then we're back in more familiar country rock territory for Monument, and the placid anxiety of Mockingbird Bible is recalled in You're a Lion, Everything is Taken from Us, and the unspeakably pretty album closer Voyager. There's also the overt atmospherics and gothic literary feel of Elijah, Come On!, the exquisitely sad Borderline, and the light-footed genre exercise Matador - each one of them demonstrating DeCroo's ability to breathe new life into old wine. And those who spent unholy amounts of time with War Torn Man on instant repeat will hear the same kind of stealth hooks and bittersweet poetics on tracks like Pleasure and Pain and My Love Rides. And on it goes. Twenty-four tracks, 90 minutes, peak DeCroo. Queen Mary Trash is an old-fashioned double album because its author is a prolific motherfucker and - in his own words - a lifer. Those who already know his work will wring it dry of every last note and expert turn-of-phrase, while hopefully those who don't will take the time to listen. Though whether DeCroo manages to shift one copy of Queen Mary Trash or one million, nothing will ever blunt the significance of what he's achieved here.