Jesse Woods

Jesse Woods' debut unfolds with sleepy charm, its Southwestern daydream lingering in the summer heat. The local songwriter's ethereal, abstract lyrics seep in slowly, the LP instead propelled by a psychedelic folk gauze of production, from Hawaiian-steel-laced opener "Walk Along Cattle Drives" to the closing echoes of "Tumbleweeds." The sharp, percussive intro for "Cold Blood" melts into melodic swoons as Woods muses hypnotically, "I think our driver needs a driver." There's a boozy exhaustion in the touches of Brian Wilson-esque pop mixed with a flair of tight experimentation, like a more sedated version of Austin's Bill Baird. The loping "Broken Bottle" and easy warp to "Lazerburn" suggest the folkier side of My Morning Jacket, but "Chain Gang" evokes Grizzly Bear in the miasma of dazed harmony. Deceptively seductive and compelling.