Brazos
(Autobus)
On its first EP, Brazos was simply an alias for Austin singer-songwriter Martin Crane, and some early adopters insist that things were better in those days. But the first full-length by the band -- now a trio -- includes two songs that are close to being Crane solo tracks, and they're the album's least interesting. While even the most produced tracks on Phosphorescent Blues are stylistically spare, bassist Paul Price and drummer Andy Beaudoin's small touches have a major impact.
A college-town song-poet, Crane is word-struck enough to include one number, "The Observer," that's adapted from an Adrienne Rich poem. Yet what distinguishes Phosphorescent Blues are not lyrics, but voices -- simple, precise backup "ohs," "doos" and "yahs" as much as the frontman's tenor and falsetto -- and settings. With a fluidity that recalls Van Morrison's Astral Weeks, such songs as "My Buddy" and "Tell" shift and glimmer, chug and slide. Brazos's music isn't jazz, but such elements as "Day Glo's" airy bass show that genre's fruitful influence.
Crane is not a singular vocalist, and his subject matter can be predictable: "Kid," for example, is yet another childhood reminiscence. Yet the song is a knockout, thanks to its sudden additions and subtractions, its half-buried background vocals and its ardent refrain. When the parts fit together this well, Crane should be pleased that Brazos is no longer than a one-man band.
Standout Tracks: "Kid," "My Buddy" MARK JENKINS
