It’s a measure of his versatility that Troy Johnson is compared nearly as often to pop rockers such as Elton John or John Mayer as he is to his Nashville-based peers. Twelve, Johnson’s debut album, affi rms his Nashville-by-way-of-Texas roots, but the occasional orchestral fl ourishes and a smattering of Memphis-style horns provide a texture that transcends the strictures of country radio. The manner in which Johnson’s career has unfurled thus far looks almost “textbook” in design. A native of Katy, Texas, Johnson knew by the time he graduated high school that he was destined for a life in music. To that end, he enrolled at Belmont University, just a few blocks from Nashville’s Music Row, and immersed himself in the city’s singer-songwriter scene. Eventually, after putting together a three-song demo of original compositions (one of which was a co-write of the future Dixie Chicks hit, “Some Days You Gotta Dance”), Johnson struck a publishing deal with Music Row veteran Alex Torrez. Three years later, Torrez hooked Johnson up with Sony/ATV, for whom the young songwriter continues to write. Johnson also supplemented his income by singing on demos and master sessions around Nashville, and meanwhile saw his songs cut by the likes of Sara Evans and Keith Urban. As regards the making of Twelve, Johnson has said that he simply started to warm to the idea of writing his own record. High points on the disc include “Sweet Summertime,” which would fit nicely into the Ray Charles songbook; a gritty folk-rocker titled “Cold Spot” that rises to the level of the best of John Mellencamp; and a smattering of anthemic ballads (“Airplane,” “Everybody”) that bring to mind the solid songcraft of Five For Fighting’s John Ondrasik. As adept as he’s been at writing for others, it seems clear Johnson’s talent shines brightest when he’s writing for himself.