Folk Noir
Isobel Campbell & Mark Lanegan
Sunday at Devil Dirt
(V2)
***1/2
No one who’s ever heard “Some Velvet Morning” can ever forget it — not just the veiled sexual threat to “open up your gate” or the cryptic references to some woman named Phaedra, but the bourbon-and-honey interplay between Lee Hazlewood’s low growl and Nancy Sinatra’s ethereal whisper. Many have tried to duplicate that chemistry, but few have come as close to succeeding as Isobel Campbell (ex of Belle & Sebastian) and Mark Lanegan (ex of Screaming Trees).
Sunday at Devil Dirt features Lanegan more prominently than Campbell (even though she wrote most of the songs), but he more than commands the spotlight, especially on “The Raven,” an erotic rewrite of the Poe poem. And while the pastiches of Delta blues are occasionally mannered, they’re balanced out by folk-pop songs like “Trouble” (which sounds like Cat Stevens without being the Cat Stevens song “Trouble”) and “Fight Fire With Fire,” one of five unusually strong bonus tracks.
PAUL MATWYCHUK

Folk Redux
Collie Ryan
The Hour Is Now
(Sebastian Speaks)
****
Take the road south of psychedelica and you’ll end up in Texas, where the whole scene began. It’s only fitting that after releasing three incredibly rare psychedelic folk LPs in 1973 through her hippie commune in Lompoc, Ca., Collie Ryan ended up painting hubcaps on the side of Texan roads. The Hour Is Now compiles the best parts of her recordings. Ryan’s warbling voice is sweet, and songs like “Watching the Grain Growing” take the listener from the grainy prairies to mythical landscapes, 33 years before Joanna Newsom canonized the idea. The minimal reverb and stark finger-picked guitar make the album a journey through the annals of vintage ethereal folk, with Linda Perhacs and Sibelle Baier the only worthy points of comparison. With original copies being released in tiny 500-count quantities, this thick vinyl reissue and gorgeous cover art (a Collie Ryan original) is the best way to complement your trip. File under: Hippie-folk Goddess.
AARON LEVIN

Avant Pop
Antony & The Johnsons
The Crying Light
(Secretly Canadian)
****
Kook-pop fans awaited Antony & The Johnsons’ follow-up to 2005’s Mercury Prize-winner I Am a Bird Now with bated breath. And despite Antony Hegarty’s cavalcade of guest appearances last year (with Hercules & Love Affair, Lou Reed, Leonard Cohen, Marianne Faithfull), it’s this gem of an album that will finally appease them. On the cover, a writhing image of butoh dancer Kazu Ohno offers a glimpse into Hegarty’s purpose. Like butoh, the tracks on The Crying Light can be slow and even grotesque: imagine a world where “Epilepsy Is Dancing.” Hegarty stretches his distinctive voice in a way that sounds as though the words are beaming into the mic from another world, maybe one where devotional Sufi chants get a lot of radioplay — he wrings out the lyrics of “Dust and Water” over tinkling piano and Benedictine drones as if reciting a prayer. But the most fun comes from “Aeon,” with full-on gospel wail and distorted, minimal guitar — that baby boy will take care of you.
FAWNDA MITHRUSH

Psychedelic Pop
Animal Collective
Merriweather Post Pavilion
(Domino)
****
If someone had told me eight years ago that Animal Collective would make an album packed with short, focused, accessible songs, I wouldn’t have believed it. But the band has changed a lot since Spirit They’ve Gone, Spirit They’ve Vanished. Having started as a woozy, experimental group, these guys have slowly started to make — dare I say it? — hits. 
Merriweather Post Pavilion starts with the Animals of yore: noisy electronics and reverb-drenched guitars covered in ethereal vocals. But when the percussion picks up, it turns into an organic-dance banger. The vocal hooks are as powerful and catchy as anything in the indie-pop sphere. “My Girls” follows with unfocused electronics giving way to bouncing percussion and catchy vocals that make it impossible not to bob your head. 
This album perfectly balances a pop approach with weird, layered instrumentals; sometimes it sounds like Brian Wilson, sometimes like avant-garde electronica, and sometimes both at the same time. There are still laid-back meanders like “Daily Routine” and “No More Runnin’,” but these tracks are quite straightforward compared to Animal Collective’s earlier output. It’s a rare band that can make an album this esoteric sound like a pop crossover, but one listen to “Summertime Clothes” leaves no doubt that Animal Collective can do all that and more. 
MIKE DEANE