Blind Alfred Reed would have hated the world of today. Hell, he thought the 1920s were loose and immoral, which they probably were if you were born in the 1880s. Armed with a fiddle and a sandpaper voice, the Hinton, West Virginia, native called out the gamblers, fast women, high-falutin' men, hooch runners, high-tech locomotives, and price gougers, and would have been scandalized by a women even running for president and disappointed by the idea of Wal-Mart. For proof, see Always Lift Him Up: A Tribute to Blind Alfred Reed, which is presented by the West Virginia Music Hall of Fame and features exclusively West Virginia singers, pickers, and fiddlers like Little Jimmy Dickens, Tim and Mollie O'Brien, and Kathy Mattea. Instead of sidestepping Reed's staunch moralism, these artists present his lyrics with a straight face (except for performance artist Ann Magnuson) and let his contradictions and convictions explain themselves.

Starting the disc with the one-two punch of Dickens' "Woman's Been After Man Ever Since" and Mollie O'Brien's "Beware" is something close to brilliance, as both songs warn listeners away from the temptations of women ("We can plainly understand woman was made after man/ And she's been after man ever since") and men ("He smokes, he chews, he wears nice shoes/ Beware, oh take care"), respectively. Both Dickens and O'Brien wring out all the Christian paranoia while keeping the proceedings spry. Reed sang his songs like a preacher preaches sermons: His compositions are full of moral instructions and warnings, yet to ensure his audience listened and remembered, he wrote in a popular vein, drawing from lowly Appalachian ditties to sell a higher power. Only Ann Magnuson takes a tongue-in-cheek approach on "Why Do You Bob Your Hair, Girls", in which she introduces herself as Sister Alice Tully Hall (apparently not the Alice Tully Hall, which is a building) and has her children sing the jaunty chorus. It's a bit offputting in the middle of a generally sincere tribute, but it helps that the song is both well performed and genuinely funny.

Always Lift Him Up does not focus on Reed's finger-wagging exclusively, but includes many of his hymns to God as well as to the American poor. The Nichols Family, an a cappella gospel choir from the rural community of Swiss, perform a swooning version of "Walking in the Way with Jesus", accentuating the song's forthrightness with graceful harmonies. If his heavenly songs sound hopeful, his earthly songs sound grimly pessimistic and extremely suspicious of emerging technologies and staid politics. Charlie McCoy's stoically strummed "Fate of Chris Lively and Wife", about a couple run over by a train, drips with dread and grief: "They were killed/ Engine crushed horse and wagon/ Oh how sad to know they never can come back."

Even if they live, the people in Reed's songs meet a fate worse than a speeding locomotive: poverty. As vehemently as he warned against bathtub gin and flappers, Reed-- who allegedly died of starvation in the 1950s-- stood for the little guy, singing songs like "How Can a Poor Man Stand Such Times and Live", here covered mournfully by Tim O'Brien, that tell of such everyday troubles and tribulations as the rising price of dry goods, the dangers of working in the mines, and the general ignorance of politicians. The tribute title derives from the song "Always Lift Him Up and Never Knock Him Down", here sung by Dwight Diller and John Morris, who preach to hate the sin and love the sinner. "When he's sick and tired of life and takes to drinking/ Do not pass him by, do not greet him with a frown," Diller sings. "Do not fail to lend a hand and try to help him/ Always lift him up and never knock him down." Even if you don't agree with all of Reed's steadfast opinions, Always Lift Him Up presents him with all his contradictions in tact, and lifts up his generous populism and unforgettable tunes as his true legacy.