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the songs contai n omi nous fragments, such as "l don't w anr ro tell you sad news/ I don't want to l et you dow n" i n the otherw i se pl easantvacati on song "R hode Isl and." E ven the j aunty vi ol i n ri ffon "R ai n (setti ng out i n the l eaf boat)," bel i es the bi ttersw eet tensi on that i nforms al l the co's songs. H eaven may or may not be in the offing, but what's here on E arth al w ays l eavesus ach i ng for somethi ng more.
_JI14 BURLINGAME

the Champs yacht-rocking on the Indi an Ocean. But just as soon as you think you have Bharat Karki pegged, along comes a track like "Forget Me Not," an instrumental camel-ride rumba in the vein of Dtzzy Gillespie's "A N i ght i n Tuni si a." fol l ow ed by the polyrhythmic rocker "Dancing Rope." Reissuedby )apaneselabel EM, the eight-track International Music is over far sooner than you'd like-but what a groovy bash it is w hi l e i t l asts.- r. c. IF Y OU tl K E TH IS : C hec k out Bombay the Hard Way' Guns, Cars ond S i tors(Motel ),Bombay C onnection, Vo[.z, BombshellBoby ol

S OU N D S LIK E : A N i kki McC l ure paper cut.

INTERNATIONAT MUSIC

B ombay (B ombayC o nnec ti on),and Rodio /ndio; The Eternal Dream of S ound (S ubl i meFrequenc i es ).

It's no mysteryw hy w orl d musi c has made a habit of popping up on both the pop charts and in indie rock ci rcl es:not onl y has postgTr r America realized how dangerously insular it's become, but the world has gotten noticeably smaller, thanks to busily updating, uploading, and borderJeaping social networks. So it's notable that the crossover crowd. Many nonbelievers in the indie rock audience probably cringe at overt proselytizing, yet would grudgingly admit that part of these acts'appeal is the exotic aura their religiosity bestows upon their music. As Don Delillo wrote, "The nonbelievers need the believers," andfor zr years Lancaster, Pennsylvania's The Innocence Mission has bridged the faith gap with their transcendently beautiful songs. Usually, the trio keeps its piety in the background, but, like it or not, the best track on their ninth album, My Room in the Trees, "God Is Love." is It embodies all that is great about this group: Karen Peris's painterly soprano voice;the William Carlos Williams-1ike celebration of everyday life found in her lyrics; the delicate music box of instrumentation she, her husband, Don, and bassist Mike Bitts open up for us; and just the right uptick at the chorus to make it catchy but not nagging. T h e so n g is a typ ica l: God i s only referenced a few other times on the album, obliquely, and traditional choruses are also rare. Wh a t d o e s r e cu r o n M y R oom i n the Treesis a handful ofwords and th e m e s, wh ich , h a vin g al so graced th e b a n d ' s p a st tr a cks a nd ti tl es, could at this point compose a kin d o f In n o ce n ce M issi on career overview, a palimpsest of comfortin g , fa m ilia r o b se ssio n s. 11but A one track mentions travel of some kin d , r a in a n d in a n im a te obj ects in motion get eight mentions each, ciothing and colors (often ye1low or gold) six, and animals and leaves aren't far behind after that. If it were all bucolic, it would be too precious, but close to half
TO POP

YOU (UNDERSTOOD)

On Samantha Crain's third studio release,the earthy songstressconti nues to gl ean i nspi rati on from the Southern Gothic literature that she adores,incorporating both the iconography of the torrid West-the Choctaw Crain lives in rural Okla. homa-and an air of supernatural sonic suspense into her modernfolk repertoire. Inspired by the words of Anais Nin, who wrote that ''eachcontactw i th a human bei ng is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it," Crain collected the true tales of 16 individuals with whom, at one time or another, she crossed paths, and conveysthem with the same beyond-her-years maturity that has characterized her work thus far. "E qui nox" j uxtapos esa s ens ual rhythmic swagger with contradicting lyrical frailty in a track that laments the two-faced nature of one ofthe singer's real-iife encounters, while the upbeat charmer "Blueprints" impresses with a reverberating keyboard loop that

album appropriately titled Iniernati onal Musi c-tunes sel dom get as transnational as this-was recorded in 1978 Calcutta. Bharat Karki and company's musi cal l y mul ti l i ngual party crui se makes stops in statesidepop ports of call, utilizing a clamorous array ofnative Indian percussion while also brandishing piercing electric guitar, spunky bass, rec-room organ, and an altogether psychedelic bent. Picture a hot and bothered sitar soir6e in a Midwest woodpaneled basement pad, crashed by garage-rootedpsych kids and party-first Latin rock 'n' rollers. Strains ofthat onetime airport fave, "Hare Rama, Hare Krishna" float through the track "lnternational Peace,"while huzzahs usher in the antsy "Come On Dance with Me," which sounds for all the world like first

FEXINIST

RESPONSE

CULTURE

should definitely please crowds during live performances. Equally high-ene r g y l a r e l i k e t h e s i m p le yet infectious "Up on the Table" and the foot-tapping, guitar-heavy "Lions" (which comes complete wit h a f el c h i n g . g r o u p - h u mm in g refrain after each chorus) keep Crain s la l e s t u o r k a t a n e n er g e tica11y improved pace. And for the early adopters, gems like the barebones "Wichitalright" and the folkinfused "We Are the Same'' are comforting throwbacks to Crain's earlier work. With wild guitars, avant-garde song structure, and lyrical prowess, You (Understood) elegantly entices listeners with both the familiar and the fresh.
_CLAIRE ASHTON

MADETHE HARBOR
S O UNDS L I K E : S u f j a nS t e ve n s, Andrew B i r d , C a l e x i c o ,T h e W at s on Tw i n s . Wi l h mi nor tri ads and haunti ng melodies, Mountain Man will have you reaching for a sweater like it's inhaling before rising together in harmony. The recording's so intimate that when the women go silent you can hear the mics buzzi ng i n the backgroun d l i k e an el ec trical tower awake in the woods at night. With only sparse instrumental accompaniment, vocal afiangements carry the record through. A t one poi nt i n "Loon S ong,"the lone guitar drops out like it lost its breath during a particularly effective (and lovely) evocation ofthe title fowl's call, then picks itselfup again to finish out the song with steady small plucks. That three rather distinct voices blend so elfortlessly together is one ofthe group's best aspects.In the penultimate track, "Babylon,"you can only vainly try to disentangle the three voices'fugal strands.A soundtrack equally suited to watchi ng fi refl i es on a humid ni ght or z i pping yourselfsnug in a sleeping bag under the stars, Mountain Man's somber melodies make for a moody way to pass the summer. - r...r .

WARMSLIME

Warm Slime,the tenth or so album from the crazily productive co m b o , se e sth e fo u r so m e w axi ng

dusk already.A bit darker than fellow folk crooners The Be Good Tanyas, the trio makes harmlesssounding subject matter like womanhood and forestani mal s oddl y eerie and appropriately compli cated. The band's members (Amelia Randall Meath, Molly Erin Sarle, and Alexandra Sauser-Monnig) met at Bennington College, but don't expect any kind ofhokey, liberalarts a cappella here-the substance of Mad.ethe Harbor sounds rnore like lullabies sung by troubled mothers. But after a few listens, you'll move past the dark harmonics and begin to hear the warmth and care attached to each note, from the strained intimacy of "Soft Skin," to the bi te at the end of'D og S ong ("Hurry up, baby, or get out of my sight.") Made the Harbor was recorded in an ancient ice-crearn parlor in Vermont, and you can hear it: The lo-fi recording treats the l i stener to sheet musi c turni ng. lips parting, strings momentarily misplucked, and three mouths

Short, sharp, and simultaneously sludgy, Warm Slime is a chemical phenomenon, managing to sound a s old as th e b l u e sa n d a s f e i s tya s a snotty r5-year-old, woozily reverbas happy as a rockabilly king and as prickly and sticky as demon-driven first-wave punk. Credit goes to Thee Oh Seesplayers and their 1oud, p roud roo t s i n t h e S a n F r a n c isco underground: Vocalis!guitarist John Dwyer has headedup garage-y projects like the Coachwhips and Burmes e .a s u e l l a s m o r e e x pe r imentally noisy outfits like Pink and Brown and the Drums; guitarist PeteyDammit has generatedhulking shards of noise as part of Big Techno Werewolves; and drummer Mike Shoun kept beat for Caesura and Numinous Eye. But vocalist-keyboardist Brigid Dawson is the band's wild card: The previously unknown elemental matches Dwyer squeal for howl in the now-drastically metamorphosed acoustic-folktrio.

wonderfully aggressivewhile tackling the driving, caustic swlnger "Ca stia ticT a ckle " a n d th e bashi ng. distortion-convulsed hip-shaker " M e g a - F e a st.' Of[- th e - c ff referu ences to Dracula's sister, blackouts, and bats that flash in the night nod to shock-garagepracticioners like the late JayReatard and Lux ln te r io r . No t su r p r isin g L ythe l i fe expectancyis low and the burnout rate high for such stripped-andfired rockers, but judging from the wads ofenergy Thee Oh Seeswring from, say,the title track's sprawling rz-minute epic-which stretches, gushes, and shatters into fragmented guitar notes-one suspects that the perpetual quest for the raw allows these curious trawiers of the dark corners ofthe Nuggetscatalog to continue to burn brightly. - K. c . T AST ESL IKE: Ch e e r io s a nd mi l k with a d a sh o f Ka h lu aa n d a si de of g r e e n Je ll- O ' b r o ke n g la ss"sal ad.

C OMIN G TO Y OU R TOW N : Mountai n l .4an are di stri buti ngthe z rne Get Y ourS qui rt On w h i l e on tour to spread the w ord about s afe s ex and the pow er of femal e e j ac ul atron.
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