Both a genre and a marketing term, Americana flirts with nostalgia and gentility even as it provides an alternative to pop music’s commercialism. While choosing 10 artists out of the 70-odd scheduled to perform at this week’s showcases and awards ceremonies, we honored that tired concept—diversity. But we tried to go deeper than that. These artists don’t just recycle the rootsy clichés to which Americana’s practitioners can fall prey. Whether it’s bluegrass or blues, they transform their influences into music that feels immediate, personal and even, at times, eccentric. That’s what America, and Americana, is supposed to be about.

SARAH BORGES Sarah Borges is a classic American rocker. Blessed with a big, slightly astringent voice and a dry sense of humor, the Massachusetts native sounds as if she would have been at home on Stiff Records in 1978. On this year’s Diamonds in the Dark, Borges effortlessly covers John Doe and Exene Cervenka, Tom Waits and Greg Cartwright. Her band, The Broken Singles, play everything just loosely enough. They’re slangy without being sloppy, and make it all seem casual. Live, Borges can hold a crowd with sheer vocal talent. There’s no false glamour, no pretense and no posturing. She seems aware of rock’s collective memory in a way that makes her something more than a revivalist—her girl-group take on Cartwright’s “Stop and Think It Over” beats Mary Weiss’ recent version of the song. Borges has guts and flair, and Diamonds suggests this superb interpreter will mature into a first-rate songwriter. Wednesday, 11 p.m. at The Basement

HAYES CARLL Hayes Carll’s spare, raffish narratives never tip over into sentimentality, which places him in the line of Texas singer-songwriters such as Guy Clark, Townes Van Zandt and Ray Wylie Hubbard. From Houston, Carll cut one of the finest country records in recent memory, 2005’s Little Rock, on which he made killing chickens sound like fun and wondered if friendship could survive parenthood. Carll has a sharp eye for detail, and he can be generous, funny and acerbic within the same song. On Little Rock’s “Good Friends,” Carll sings, “Rick’s in California / Being something that he’s not,” but it’s a statement of humanity, not a smart-ass throwaway. Produced by R.S. Field, the record is formally satisfying, with Kenny Vaughan’s guitar a perfect counterpoint to Carll’s relaxed but never indolent drawl. Carll says he’s working with Nashville producer Brad Jones on a new collection of songs set for release in early 2008. Thursday, 10:30 p.m. at Mercy Lounge

PETER CASE sings his new Let Us Now Praise Sleepy John as if he were being waved through a highway roadblock. Throughout his 30-year career, Case has made his name as a new-wave musician with The Nerves and The Plimsouls, curated music programs for Los Angeles’ Getty Museum, and produced a tribute to guitarist and singer Mississippi John Hurt. A student of acoustic-guitar styles, Case brings his expertise to bear on Sleepy John. He and guitarist Richard Thompson swing “Every 24 Hours” in brisk 12/8 time. On “Ain’t Gonna Worry No More,” Case proves himself a master of narrative, weaving in references to puppet governments and Lightnin’ Hopkins. Sleepy John demonstrates how American musicians can make individualist art that never seems solipsistic. And on the scruffy “I’m Gonna Change My Ways,” Case and Duane Jarvis linger long enough to play some rock ’n’ roll before they hit the road. Thursday, 10:30 p.m. at The Basement

HACKENSAW BOYS Contemporary acoustic groups bypass rock ’n’ roll in favor of the old-time wisdom of string bands and bluegrass ensembles. The Hackensaw Boys sport a style that’s as fast and funny as the best rock, and their new Look Out! stands in relation to the acoustic-music movement as did the Flamin Groovies’ 1969 Supersnazz to that decade’s rock ’n’ roll revival. Like the Groovies, the Hackensaw Boys sound rueful and slightly removed from the action. On “Baltimore,” they sing, “I’ll miss you, honey / But we’ll talk on the telephone.” Postmodernists obsessed with the irretrievable past, the Virginia sextet have a biting sense of humor. Ward Harrison and Jesse Fiske’s “Oh, Girl” turns macho posturing into a joke. “Gonna buy my love a black S.U.V. / Gonna sink it in the deep blue sea,” they sing. They’re superb songwriters—Fiske’s “Too Much Time” remains ambivalent about loneliness, but comes down on the side of friendship. Wednesday, midnight at Station Inn

LAURIE LEWIS A product of the Bay Area’s bluegrass scene, Laurie Lewis exemplifies the genre’s universal appeal, even as she remains true to its regionalist origins. A superb multi-instrumentalist, Lewis plays fiddle in her current group, Laurie Lewis & the Right Hands. On their 2006 The Golden West, the group displays its light touch and impeccable taste in outside material. Their version of Kate Campbell’s “Bury Me in Bluegrass” typifies the record’s preoccupations. Narrated by a man whose Kentucky farm is set to be transformed into a shopping mall, it’s a devastating portrait of a culture at odds with modernity. “You can count the generations like circles on a tree / On tombstones you can barely read,” they sing. Golden West features songs by Billy Joe Shaver and Jimmy Martin, while Lewis originals such as “A Hand to Hold” gracefully update tradition without descending into the formalism that can afflict bluegrass revisionism. Friday, 10 p.m. at Station Inn

CHUCK PROPHET Americana’s devotees honor elder statesmen such as Levon Helm and Guy Clark, which is fair enough. Still, no American music lover would want to pass over unclassifiable figures on the order of Chuck Prophet. His latest, Soap and Water, pays tribute to the work of Memphis icon Alex Chilton, whose ’70s recordings helped define Americana as a haven for visionaries and eccentrics. From Whittier, Calif., Prophet gained notice as guitarist in Green on Red, an ’80s band who combined roots-rock and the trash aesthetic in new ways. Recorded partly at Nashville’s Alex the Great studio, Soap and Water recasts Chilton’s insolent pop while avoiding pastiche. “I Can Feel Your Heartbeat” quotes Chilton’s “Hey! Little Child,” but Prophet also references Texas two-step and one-chord blues. “I could make it all the way to Salt Lake City on a full tank of gas,” Prophet sings, and one wishes him a safe journey. Saturday, 9:30 p.m. at Mercy Lounge

DEL CASTILLO From Austin, Texas, Del Castillo feature the virtuoso nylon-string guitar playing of brothers Mark and Rick del Castillo. Live, the sextet jam out, and on record they prove themselves a disciplined group who combine R&B, pop hooks and echoes of flamenco. They count among their fans Willie Nelson—who sings his “I Never Cared for You” on their 2006 Brotherhood—and filmmakers Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez, who have used Del Castillo’s music in their recent work. They’re an example of how American music effortlessly fuses what might seem like wildly disparate elements. Del Castillo’s reach is impressive—they synthesize traditional styles such as corrido and gitano into a beautifully realized pop vision. It’s the kind of intelligent eclecticism that bodes well for Americana’s future. A song such as “Perdoname” transcends category: catchy, sophisticated and elusive, it matches anything Music Row’s finest are coming up with these days. Saturday, 11:30 p.m. at 3rd & Lindsley

THE LANCASTER ORCHESTRA Listening to Carl Mathson’s songs on two records by Sweden’s The Lancaster Orchestra, you get the idea that Americana has become a borderless genre. From the small Swedish town of Vetlanda, Mathson sings in English and makes darkened-room music that bears comparison with the best efforts by Lambchop. On 2005’s With Help From Absent Friends, The Lancaster Orchestra added pump organ, pedal steel and muffled drums to songs such as “We’re All Gonna Die.” Absent Friends was a remarkable debut, and elevated Mathson to the front ranks of a Scandinavian alt-country scene that included Thomas Denver Jonsson. Last year’s Never Cried Once When I Could Have was equally accomplished and, if anything, even more doleful. Sometimes Mathson’s lyrics aren’t quite idiomatic, as in the lines, “I’m like a stray cat in the stairway / Like a man who lost at the tracks,” but that’s just part of his appeal. Wednesday, 8 p.m. at Mercy Lounge

OTIS TAYLOR American music is unimaginable without the contributions of blues performers such as Lonnie Johnson, Howlin’ Wolf and Skip James. Otis Taylor isn’t a revivalist, but his work respects blues history while plowing ahead in experimental fashion. From Chicago, Taylor moved to Boulder, Colo., in the late ’60s. He’s fond of using instruments such as banjo, mandolin and cornet, and his recordings make connections between the one-chord drone of classic Mississippi blues and the avant-garde excursions of The Velvet Underground. Taylor says he’s readying a new collection, Recapturing the Banjo, for release early next year. Recapturing adds the talents of Memphis singer and guitarist Alvin Youngblood Hart to an impressive roster that includes banjo players Corey Harris, Guy Davis, Keb’ Mo’ and Don Vappie. It promises to be an audacious work that takes in traditional songs such as “Little Liza Jane” and the jug-band blues of Gus Cannon’s “Walk Right In.” Friday, 8 p.m. at Station Inn

AMELIA WHITE Amelia White writes closely observed lyrics that are never overdone, and she sings in a blues-inflected voice that suggests a more disciplined Lucinda Williams. The Virginia native’s 2006 Black Doves displays a fine ear for pop classicism. It’s a singer-songwriter record whose musical virtues match its grasp of colloquial American speech. After knocking around Boston and Seattle, White moved to Nashville five years ago and quickly became part of an East Nashville scene that seemed intent on rewriting folk-rock with casual rock ’n’ roll attitude. Black Doves’ title track addresses the dislocations of the Iraq war, while “Sleeping Poppy” bears comparison with a Gene Clark composition. “What U Wish” sports a beautifully mordant chorus, and brings to mind the attractions of Dusty Springfield’s Dusty in Memphis. A perfectly judged performance, it’s unclassifiable and addictive. White says she’s writing with the likes of Lori McKenna, which ought to yield fascinating results. Wednesday, 9 p.m. at The Basement