He can sell more concert tickets than U2 and more albums than Paul Simon. He met, married and bid farewell to an A-list actress, all within a nine-month frame. The critics may have deemed his last album "one-dimensional," but his latest release, The Road and the Radio, shows a deeper side to Kenny Chesney, a side worthy of all the praise and publicity. He still displays his famous Caribbean-country style, but this time he reveals more of his soul. And although it fails to offer what the fans really are seeking — clues behind the artist's failed union with Renee Zellweger — the album is, nevertheless, Chesney's most ambitious and successful attempt at proving himself.

Born in Nashville and never photographed without his dogged cowboy hat, he may possess the quintessential country characteristics, but unlike most country artists, Chesney would choose a beach over a ranch any day of the year. His music, therefore, is less tumbleweed and more palm tree, less cow tipping and more parasailing. But his year-long tan and feel-good vibes cannot completely mask his genre; Chesney isn't trying to hide from his country roots, he's just hoping enough Sun-In will fool the skeptics and unite the country fans with the foes.

Chesney's previous album, Be As You Are [Songs From an Old Blue Chair], took the island-hopping style a little too far and resulted in a disappointing response. He wrote or co-wrote the entire album, and after flops like "Somewhere In The Sun" and "Island Boy," Chesney seems to have unconsciously admitted his shortcomings as a songwriter. Consequently, he receives only two writing credits on The Road and the Radio.

Perhaps it is the songwriters, not Chesney, who deserve credit for the depth showcased throughout The Road and the Radio. It is the lyrics that anchor this album — it seems that without their creativity and ingenuity, the record would come off, at best, as superficial. But don't make any premature judgments regarding Chesney's influence. Every one of the album's 11 tracks has the potential to sell out an arena, and fans aren't clogging Ticketmaster because of sensational lyrics. Chesney puts his heart into this album; his ultimate goal was to please the fans, and album sales are sure to indicate accomplishment.

The title track is a surprising opener for the album; it is overly synthesized and sounds more indie than anything Chesney has done in the past. What make this track catchy are the typical, predictable lyrics that Chesney co-wrote. With lines like "But in my mind there's something more/ And I'll open up a brand new door," this song may not display Chesney's progression, but country fans are sure to eat it up.

The rest of the album is a stretch, for both Chesney and country music. He doesn't forgo the country-sap; his songs still make the typical toasts to lovers, friends and beer. Yet, there's something more ambitious with this album. Chesney genuinely adores all 11 tracks, and his passion allows even the dullest of songs to come off as colorful.

The Road and the Radio takes a step away from typical country by not being pompous, preachy or political. The songs may not be overly introspective, but they are relatable and down-to-earth. The single "Who You'd Be Today" concerns the premature death of a friend and, since Chesney did not write the lyrics, he becomes sucked into the song. He transforms himself from performer to spectator, and watching him sing live gives insight as to why he's Country Music Association's reigning Entertainer of the Year.

The entirety of The Road and the Radio is far from a smooth drive, however. The Road gets a little rockier and even more nauseating with the ill-attempted, Stones-influenced "Livin' in the Fast Forward." And the album hits a pothole with "Freedom," a track that could be described simply as icky.

The roughness of The Road is, however, balanced with the smoothness. It's the ballads Chesney seems to do so well, in particular the album's lone love song, "You Save Me." The album effectively mixes the slow tunes with more upbeat songs — following the delicate "You Save Me" is the lively "Summertime," which has potential to be the album's biggest hit.

Although Chesney did not play a major role as a songwriter and the album was completed before the end of his whirlwind marriage, fans are still guaranteed to scrutinize the lyrics, hoping for some kind of new, inside information. The mellow "Tequilla Loves Me (Even If You Don't)" is the closest the album gets to dishing out the dirt, but it doesn't dig too far below the already publicized surface.

This is Chesney's ninth album — his second this year — he's been touring nonstop, dealing with a failed marriage, fleeing from the increasingly intrusive paparazzi and he's tired. Somehow The Road and the Radio is more ambitious than exhaustive and deserves praise for that quality alone.

Grade: B