The good folks at Entertainment Weekly put together a list of "25 country albums you need to hear (even if you hate country music)". I don't typically knock such lists. Having created some of them in the past, I realize it's easy to screw them up, and they tend to spark unforgiving fervor of the "Hey, dumbass ..." variety.

That said, this list gave me a nosebleed. All lists will have glaring omissions and oddball inclusions, but if the point here was trying to lure non-country enthusiasts, then music by fresh-faced muppets and newgrassholes isn't the way to go. The gatekeepers to country also aren't gimmicky pop-country fartknockers schilling party anthems. People who "don't like country music" have had ample opportunity to discover it via the shouty (Gretchen Wilson), the schticky (Big & Rich), the sugary (Shania Twain) -- who were all unavoidable on radio. As for the Starbucksy (Robert Plant/Alison Krauss), it was unavoidable in a different way.

The last barb I'll throw at the list by EW (which is a dearly beloved publication to me) is that anybody who can't cotton to George Jones should give up on country entirely.

I grew up along Kentucky's "Country Music Highway," which included the hometowns of Loretta Lynn, Tom T. Hall, Dwight Yoakam, Ricky Skaggs, the Judds and a few others including a hulking guy you might see on the Disney Channel, who graduated from my high school. So, as one might guess, as a youth I zagged away from country and into classic rock and metal.

But we inevitably work our way back. For me it was a domino effect. Something in a jukebox reminded me of something Dad played years before which led to another guy on a jukebox cross-referenced in a Life magazine feature on the 100 most important figures in country music and so on, which prompted some liner note digging and so on.

So as best as I can recollect from so many years ago, here are 10 albums that pulled me into country music, roughly in the order that they did the pulling. If it's compilation heavy, well, tough: Many of these guys were singles machines and it seems pointless to penalize them for it. It's followed by 15 that I think might have additional sway over non-believers. There are also another four as a nod to this site's name.

credit: David McClister

1. Greatest Hits and Some That Will Be, Willie Nelson: EW chose Red Headed Stranger, which is a bullet-proof if a little subtle as an introduction. That said it's a truer "album" than this compilation.

2. Tramp on Your Street, Billy Joe Shaver: I read a blurb in the late, great CD Review magazine. This album was a gateway drug.

3. Honky Tonk Heroes, Waylon Jennings: I go way back with Waylon since Dad used to play that brown, faux leather-clad Greatest Hits album all the time. And Waylon was, after all, The Narrator. Still, I didn't really dig deeper than the hits until finding this one. My loss. Then my gain.

4. 20 Greatest Hits, Hank Williams: If I could've ground up these songs and rubbed them on my gums, I would have. Two days after buying a used copy for $6, I upgraded to 40 Greatest Hits. Not enough so I got 80some on a box set. Even that proved insufficient until a 10-CD set came along a few years later.

5. The Essential Johnny Cash: 1955-1983, Johnny Cash: These songs sounded as immediately familiar as the Williams stuff, but different. Biblical gravitas in place of rapscallion tomfoolery and tear in beer heartbreak. (This set has been replaced with a cheaper, smaller version that's about as good.)

6. The Best of George Jones: 1955-1967, George Jones: That old, pinched, nasal honky tonk turns a lot of people off, but give it a little time and you'll hear what Sinatra heard. (Several compilations seem to have replaced this one, though you can't beat those 12 years.)

7. 20 Greatest Hits, Loretta Lynn: It's not my place to say where Gretchen Wilson's lyrical promiscuity rests on the women's-lib spectrum. But in the '00s it was more part-ay than risque. Forget the Jack White album, which was fine by comeback standards. Lynn's early shit is straight-up hardcore hillbilly punk with a knuckle-sandwich cocked for any chucklehead (Lynn's better half included) who dared tangle with her.

8. Capitol Collector's Series, Merle Haggard: This was the one I got and it was bulletproof, but frankly one is better served today dropping the ducats on his 4-CD box set. As a three-point player (singer, picker, writer) he has little competition. Hand him a fiddler and he stands alone as the greatest all-around musician country has produced. His If I Could Only Fly is a nice modern introduction.

credit: Lost Highway

9. Pontiac, Lyle Lovett: I'd like some of his later albums more, but the combination of wicked wit, sly narratives, great voice and impeccable musicianship makes this one a favorite among people I know who claim to hate country.

10. Train' a Comin', Steve Earle: Earle's masterpiece debut Guitar Town didn't sound like country to me when Dad brought it home in 1986, which might be why I liked it so much. I lost track of Earle until this one, the return of a prodigal son of a bitch, who turned out story songs and desolate state of mind songs like his fingers were on fire.

Earle's a good transition to Phase II, at which point I'll step away from the domino effect and just list a bunch of recordings I've had varying degrees of success selling to country-hating pals.

11. 12 Greatest Hits, Patsy Cline: Frankly this one should be higher. This set is a jukebox hero that's sufficiently pop to court just about any listener who likes sad stuff.

12. Thunderstorms and Neon Signs, Wayne Hancock: Punky swagger, breakneck tempos, swinging stuff, achy honky-tonk all delivered by a guy with a ghost of Hank Williams voice. Hank III has successfully courted non-country listeners and he swears by this road warrior.

13. The Very Best of Buck Owens Vol. 1, Buck Owens: It's not that big a jump from the Beatles to Buck, whose hooks were just as formidable and whose sense of humor could be as corny. His right-hand man, guitarist Don Rich (RIP), was a peerless guitar god.

14. That Lonesome Sound, Jamey Johnson: Rebel cred seems to be a big deal in Nashville these days, so it's not uncommon to hear a goateed mainstream blowhard singing about his rebel cred. Johnson's more concerned with looking into dark corners of rooms and lives for his inspiration.

15. Country Music Hall of Fame, Bill Monroe: The high, nasal, braying harmonies that are this genre's hallmark are a turnoff for many. On the other hand, jamband hippies have been drawn to the breakneck instrumentation. Del McCoury is probably the best practitioner today, but might as well start with the source.

Credit: John Patrick Salisbury

16. Revival, Gillian Welch: Proof that roots can be learned. Her first is still her best, with some rocking stuff (Tear This Stillhouse Down) and enough sad songs about the downtrodden as to seem Steinbecky. Her secret weapon is partner/multi-instrumentalist/vocal genius David Rawlings, her own Don Rich.

17. Lucinda Williams, Lucinda Williams: Dad mail-ordered Sweet Old World, but being wont to find my own diamonds in the rough I dug around until I found one with this garage country masterpiece.

18. Poison Love, Buddy Miller: He makes most of his dough playing guitar with more famous folk (Emmylou Harris, Robert Plant/Alison Krauss), but Miller's a great writer with a reedy voice and as a guitarist he has more chops than a karate school. He can do honky-tonk, but there's a soulful Otis Redding vibe to his sound that some might find inviting.

19. March 16-20, 1992, Uncle Tupelo: This one comes close to violating my no-The Band rule. But it's not a country rock album. The band keeps the instrumentation to wood-and-wire and the originals (like Jeff Tweedy's monstrously subtle Black Eye) nestle nicely with trad stuff like Moonshiner and a non-winky cover of the Louvin Bros.' Atomic Power.

20. Gone, Dwight Yoakam: His debut is a masterpiece, but if you don't dig the Duane Eddy groove of Fast As You or the Cash-ian horns on Sorry You Asked on this album you can move on.

21. Old Crow Medicine Show, Old Crow Medicine Show: A fleet-fingered group of young string wizards, OCMS has crossed over thanks to whiplash tempos and old-style songs about cocaine and murder. If the song Wagon Wheel, a tweaked version of a forgotten Bob Dylan song, doesn't grab you, you can move on.

22. When I Stop Dreaming: The Best of, the Louvin Brothers: The best harmonies in the history of country music, along with some fine picking. Lyrically the subjects are so high-and-mighty pious (Wreck on the Highway and paranoid (Atomic Power) as to sound quaint today but the delivery is quicksilver.

23. Who Needs Pictures, Brad Paisley: Maybe the best three-point guy since Haggard, though he sometimes goes heavy on the corn pone humor. His debut includes sad ballads, a few funny bits and his own tight guitar leads. Among the fresh-faced newer guys he's your best bet.

24. Pieces of the Sky, Emmylou Harris: She was the soundtrack to my childhood, which makes her easy to take for granted. The reason I didn't work her into the Top 10 is that my favorite Emmy album changes all the time. She remains the best interpreter of Bruce Springsteen songs, and she's capable of ethereal pop, bluegrass, singer-songwriter fare and hard country. Wrecking Ball has the best chance of winning over country haters. But it feels like a compromise to include it.

25. Golden Hits, Roger Miller: This anthology is far too small to represent Miller's talent, but it does offer the opportunity to get acquainted with the drunken jukebox favorites (Chug-a-Lug, King of the Road) whose genius is only revealed later when/if you're sober.

26. Little Sparrow, Dolly Parton: I've tended to go with anthologies for the legends, but Parton's recent bluegrass period is a great introduction to her still crystal voice, with nods to country's past (a great Louvin cover), classic pop (I Get a Kick Out of You) and '90s rock (Shine). The title track is her own, a little overwrought but delivered with chilling conviction.

27. The Real Mr. Heartache: The Little Darlin' Years: Johnny Paycheck: Because when he's not weeping in his beer on some of these songs, he sounds primed to knife some mf-ers. Eminem wasn't born when Paycheck's blue steel voice coursed through (Pardon Me) I've Got Someone to Kill.

28. Home, The Dixie Chicks: EW had this one dead on. They'd be more contemplative later, poppier before, but this stands as the perfect modern country example of instrumental showwomanship, carefully crafted vocals and good song selection.

29. Look What Thoughts Will Do, Lefty Frizzell: I got started on an old anthology which has been replaced by this one. Frizzell is one of country's most influential singers and, frankly, if you can warm to his butterflying warble the entirety of country music will open up to you. He's the final exam.

So there you go. Left off were some of my favorite voices (Ray Price, Keith Whitley, Don Williams, Gene Watson), some favorite pickers (Merle Travis, Jerry Reed, Vince Gill), great writers (Kris Kristofferson), plenty of pioneers (Carter Family, Jimmie Rodgers, the controversial Emmett Miller) and no small number of decent newcomers (Dierks Bentley), as well as a half century of rock acts that incorporated country into their act.

But that's so you can post your 29 favorites in the comments.