"No, I'm not the man I used to be lately," Mayer sings. "See, you met me at an interesting time." Write that up as 2006's greatest understatement -- Mayer proves from the opening strains of "I Don't Trust Myself (With Loving You)" that his work with the John Mayer Trio wasn't just an exercise in blues rock experimentation. The vocals are smooth and sultry, the backdrops are parsed by pulsing bass and horns and Mayer wraps his vocals around the hook like nothing any of his contemporaries are capable of doing. The depth of the track, even in its simplicity, is astounding.

The album itself plays perfectly as a complete entity, but the singles each are better than anything Mayer wrote on Room For Squares or Heavier Things, which suggests the Grammy committee might as well start drilling his name into statues as we speak. The lead-off single "Waiting For The World To Change" is a bare and honest attempt at explaining our generation's political apathy, and it provides a solid intro to the themes of the album. But on "Belief" he does more to sum up the world's current state than any song I've heard since September 11. "Belief is a beautiful armor but makes for the heaviest sword," he sings. "Like punching under water, you never hit what you're trying for. We're never gonna win the world. We're never gonna stop the war." It's raw, honest, and thanks to the hook it's the most memorable song of 2006. If Columbia doesn't market this as a single, they're missing the boat.

Of course the album's full of potential singles. Mayer shows he can sing comfortably in falsetto on the funk tinged "Vultures," credibly covers Hendrix on "Bold As Love," and manages to write an anti-love song with "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room." That song in particular features the album's best searing one-liner, as Mayer sings to his one-time lover "Go cry about it, why don't you? We're slow dancing in a burning room!" But the album's best moment comes on the haunting "Gravity," which gives a glimpse into how difficult it must be for an artist Mayer's age to continue to grow as an artist while fighting the constraints of the adult contemporary pop mantle that's been draped around his shoulders. But the song doesn't just apply to him. It's a wrenching portrait of the struggles we all face in life, and in its darkness he still manages to hint at the light at the end of the tunnel. "Gravity, stay the hell away from me, just keep me where the light is," Mayer sings, and we know exactly what he's saying.

Continuum is this year's leading contender for Album of the Year -- it stands head-and-shoulders above anything likely to get radio airplay, and it's an album with staying power. It's been on repeat all weekend in this critic's apartment, and each replay brings with it more depth and understanding. It's a rarity, an album with commercial and artistic potential from a musician who proves each time out of the gate that he's got what it takes to be a voice of his generation.