Laughter and Tears, All Together Now : ***; LOUDON WAINWRIGHT III; “Little Ship”; Charisma/Virgin

God, the saying goes, is in the details. And as a master spinner of wry tales built on life’s minutiae, Loudon Wainwright III uncovers more illuminating detail in an ex-lover’s new answering machine greeting than a phalanx of breathlessly passionate young troubadours searching for The Truth.

The OGM on our machine

Began with “We’re not here now”

But you went and changed the “we” to “no one”

Do you mean us or me?

Your new outgoing voice sounds bright

And brave and very clear now

In those seconds you recorded it

I guess that you felt free

Wainwright’s turf has always been family, and that’s no different here on his 16th album than it was on his first in 1970, when he was just another unlucky Guy With a Guitar tagged as a “new Dylan.” Over the years, his wickedly pointed sense of humor has stopped a lot of people--critics included--from taking his work very seriously, but Wainwright touches the heart as often as he tickles the belly, frequently managing both simultaneously.

The field here runs from his own horniness (“Breakfast in Bed”) to reflections on the blessing and curse that is fatherhood (“Four Mirrors,” “Bein’ a Dad”) to the emotional legacy left us by parents, siblings and assorted relatives (“What Are Families For?”). “Mr. Ambivalent,” an ode to one man’s indecisiveness, ironically is a one-note song that is one of the album’s very few wasted moments.

Wainwright’s basic outlook has never been laid out as clearly as in “So Damn Happy,” which exposes a Woody Allen-like inability to experience happiness because he’s all too aware of how fleeting and fragile it usually is.

Further justification for that position arrives in “Primrose Hill,” one of his rare songs that doesn’t sound autobiographical. It’s the portrait of a down-and-out homeless man who has only his music and a mangy dog keeping him from despair. As always, Wainwright’s humor makes his observations on misery all the more trenchant:

From the top of the hill

There’s a hell of a view

Houses of Parliament and London Zoo

Those politicians all chatter

They trumpet and roar

That must be what those hyenas

All are laughing for

The song’s framing, by Wainwright and album co-producer John Leventhal, bathes his simple acoustic strumming in sounds of swelling harmonium, loping congas and chiming keyboards that make the lyrics’ sense of melancholy palpable.

For a guy who’s so great at getting laughs, it’s as touching as something Ray Davies would write. Of course, Davies also knows how to bring a smile and, like Wainwright, knows that tragedy and comedy are perhaps the world’s oldest Siamese twins.

*

Albums are rated on a scale of * (poor) to **** (excellent), with *** denoting a solid recommendation.