It has been years since Cat Stevens rattled anyone’s cage. One would think there is no need for him to explain himself, yet the reclusive 66-year-old chose to set the record straight on “Tell ’Em I’m Gone,” the third album since his musical reincarnation as Yusuf Islam in 2006 and his first in five years.

“Tell ’Em I’m Gone,” released on Oct. 27, follows the path other albums of its ilk have set, mingling new songs with arrangements of classics. Yet Yusuf and Rick Rubin’s nuanced production gives it a more distinct identity than his previous modern offerings. The twangy guitar and overdriven electric pianos fit into a developing canon where aging rock icons reach deeper into American blues roots. The album lacks the irresistible chemistry of Robert Plant and Alison Kraus’ “Raising Sand,” but it is not as trivial as Bob Dylan’s “Together Through Life.”

The standout quality is Yusuf’s ability to articulate his unique experiences, utilizing this musical tradition — far removed from the sounds people often associate with Islam — as a means of expressing his faith. The personal struggles bleed into Yusuf’s songwriting more than ever. The narrative of “Editing Floor Blues” is the first time he addresses his long-running miscommunication with the media with lyrics like, “We got down to the truth/But they never printed that.” These moments are proof that he has every right, as well as all the skill, to play the blues.

Compared to modern folk albums, the 36 minutes of “Tell ’Em I’m Gone,” may seem bite-sized. But the album’s length belies its emotional depth. Yusuf revisits his singer-songwriter chops. His cover of Edgar Winters’ “Dying to Live,” a highlight, could have easily been included on “Tea for the Tillerman.” The song references his beliefs and busts out his trusty soapbox. “I used to serve the empire on which the sun set never, now times have turned/We thought our white skins would save us, then we got burned,” he croons on “I Was Raised In Babylon,” one of the songs which attests to his commitment to his beliefs.

Yusuf is in his finest form when he strays from convention, a tendency he is not always above. The melodrama prevails here and there, and when it does it weighs down the entire experience. The album-closer “Doors,” for example, is presented as an anthem for new beginnings, yet its superficial, feel-good hopefulness comes across as a show-closing song in a Broadway musical.

As a whole, “Tell ’Em I’m Gone” has a full helping of ruminations. It is hard to tell if it will be a tentpole for Yusuf’s career because it is a portrait of old age — telling stories, recounting wisdom and toying about stylistically to stay relevant. Yusuf is emerging from his solitude to make long-overdue statements, and although they do not light a fire underneath as they might have done before, his new album cannot be missed.

A version of this article appeared in the Wednesday, Oct. 29 print edition. Email Zane Warman at [email protected].