South of the South

Love, loss, and hopelessness pervade David Dondero's South of the South pretty much the same way they did The Transient, his equally compelling last disc. And again the meandering, vaguely mysterious journeyman cuts a wide swath: from the swampy, endlessly creepy backdrop of his home state of Florida to the equally grim wonderland of Ely, NV, Dondero blazes a mostly bummed-out trail flecked with irony, self-doubt, and torched journals. But don't take that to mean he hasn't grown as an artist. Listen closely to the new disc, and what comes across on tracks like "The One That Fell from the Vine," "Let Go the Past," and "Pornographic Love Song" is an out-and-out mastery of confessional songwriting; had Anne Sexton lived long enough to hear these songs, she might have flushed with envy. Add to the raw appeal of Dondero's words his boyish, unshowy voice and uncomplicated way with an acoustic guitar, and what you get is a recipe for reviving a way overtired indie rock scene. South of the South, maybe coincidentally or maybe not, finds Dondero on Conor Oberst's Team Love label. Anybody determined to save the ailing scene, or to savor the best of what remains of it, should raid that roster first.