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Coby Brown: Stars & Curses

Building a career as an indie musician is hard enough without having to deal with serious real-world issues – like, say, being diagnosed with cancer – but those are exactly the cards that Coby Brown was dealt a few years ago. To his credit, Brown took his diagnosis in stride, releasing an EP (2007’s Time Is Now) that whetted appetites for his first full-length, Stars & Curses. Happily, Curses delivers on Time’s promise, offering up 10 pleasantly polished cuts of gently woven singer/songwriter pop goodness. Brown’s style isn’t showy – he leads off with the somber-to-a-fault “4th of July,” and on a number of tracks, he drenches his vocals in wide swaths of reverb – but the songs speak for themselves. Fans of artists like Josh Rouse and Josh Ritter will find a lot to love here; Brown’s voice is strong and slightly reedy around the edges, giving the music just enough homespun edge to keep things grounded. Will Golden’s production is another strong selling point – in more commercially oriented hands, tracks like the widescreen “Daylight” and yearning “Madman” would aim for glossy bombast rather than honest emotion. Nothing on Stars & Curses grabs you by the collar right off the bat, but give it time – it’ll grow on you and refuse to let go. (self-released 2009)

Coby Brown MySpace page

Andy Scott: Don’t Tempt Fate

Andy Rosen received his first major label deal in the late ‘90s as a one-man band called Goat, whose sample-heavy sound offered a mildly sunnier, dancier take on the Soul Coughing aesthetic. Although his 1998 Epic release, Great Life, disappeared with a whimper, the title track resurfaced a couple of years ago in a Kia commercial – and now Rosen himself has popped up again, this time as jazz guitarist/singer Andy Scott. It’s certainly one of the odder musical makeovers in recent memory, but his new incarnation’s debut, Don’t Tempt Fate, doesn’t suck; it’s actually an enjoyably understated collection of minimally arranged originals, performed with understated grace. If you remember “Great Life,” you know Scott isn’t anyone’s idea of a great singer, but he does a fine job of playing to his strengths here, recalling the charmingly weathered vocals of latter-day Bob Dorough, and the whole thing has a nice coffee-shop vibe, good for late nights and Sunday brunches. It’s obviously a passion project, with minimal financial backing, but it’s well worth seeking out for fans of low-key vocal jazz combos – and fans of Scott’s friend Madeleine Peyroux, who pops up here on guitar and ukulele, and delivers a typically sultry vocal cameo on the title track. (self-released 2009)

Andy Scott MySpace page

Ruthie Foster: The Truth According to Ruthie Foster

It takes stones the size of volleyballs to name an album by prefacing your own name with The Phenomenal, but that’s just what Ruthie Foster did with 2007’s The Phenomenal Ruthie Foster – and damn if she didn’t just about live up to her own advance billing. Now she’s back with The Truth According to Ruthie Foster, a set of songs just as authoritative as its title, and once again, Foster has given blues fans a hell of a feast. Truth was recorded at the legendary Ardent Studios, with Jim Dickinson behind the boards – and if that wasn’t enough, she cut the tracks with a backing band that included Robben Ford, Charles Hodges, and Dickinson himself. The end result is an album that comes as close to the old Memphis spirit as anything has this century, stacked with songs that run the gamut from fiery struts (“Stone Love”) to slow-burning strolls (“Nickel and a Nail”) – and makes room for a cover of Patty Griffin’s “When It Don’t Come Easy” in the bargain. None of these tracks will make you forget the classics they evoke, but they will make you feel like howling at the moon for awhile…or at least knocking back a few mint juleps. Sounds like honesty is still the best policy. (Blue Corn Music 2009)

Ruthie Foster MySpace page

Dylan Connor: Breakaway Republic

A Latin teacher turned indie pop road dog, Dylan Connor sounds like a vocal cross between David Mead and Guster’s Ryan Miller, and fans of both acts should find something to love in Connor’s latest release, Breakaway Republic. Eleven tracks of tightly written pop-rock with a classic feel and a dash of postmodern humor, Republic isn’t going to win any awards for flashiness, but it’s still probably one of the sturdier collections you’re liable to hear from an unsigned singer/songwriter this year, and it’s to Connor’s extreme credit that he manages to avoid focusing on the tried-and-true boy/girl dynamic for at least part of the album, spreading his focus to less-trod subject matter like bomb shelters (“Blood Like Fire”) and mortality (“Had a Little Dream”). It’s to Republic’s extreme credit, too, because when Connor does focus on relationships, the results can be a little weak. Case in point: “I Want Everybody to Know,” which tells the story of the night Connor set aside front-row passes at one of his gigs for a girl, only to watch her making out with another guy, and makes all three of them seem pretty shallow and annoying. Still, on balance, Republic is an easy listen, and even at his worst, Connor displays a tighter grasp of songcraft than your average guitarslinger. A worthy diversion for fans of the genre. (self-released 2008)

Dylan Connor MySpace page

Lisa Hannigan: Sea Sew

She rose to prominence as a member of Damien Rice’s band and she’s out touring with Jason Mraz right now, but don’t hold either of those things against Lisa Hannigan – her solo debut, Sea Sew, is far better than her most high-profile associations might lead you to expect. To be certain, Rice fans will find a lot to love here; many of the songs are built on the same delicate acoustic framework that caused such a swoon over O and, to a lesser extent, 9. But where Rice rarely seems interested in much besides plumbing the emotional depths, Hannigan provides a gentler, more tuneful gateway into the world of Nick Drake fetishists – and has the good sense to surround her songs with warmer, more colorful arrangements. The music is fine, but the real star of the show is Hannigan’s voice, which purrs and flutters across Sea Sew’s 10 tracks, lending a coiled sensuality to what could easily have been just another collection of introspective ballads for moody twentysomethings. Hannigan’s presence even lends weight to trifles like “Splishy Splashy,” and keeps the dirge-y stuff (“Courting Blues”) from taking itself too seriously – and when she hits on all cylinders, as on the ethereal, gently driving “I Don’t Know,” it’s awfully difficult not to get caught up in all the hype that’s surrounded her for the last few years. There’s a glut of this type of stuff right now, but Sea Sew proves that, when it’s done right, it can still pack a punch. An extremely polite punch, but still. (ATO 2009)

Lisa Hannigan MySpace page

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