Against Nurture

There are a few reasons why you should care about Suckle: they are a band founded by ex-Vaselines Frances McKee, they are on the antiestablishment, flag-waving Chemikal Underground label, and they sound like a female-fronted Tindersticks fighting the urge to vomit up an overdose of Prozac. Partly, this is a consequence of McKee's sinister monotones guiding along melodies that just barely scrape the sky of what a struggling listener could call optimism. "So Happy Before" — with touching echoes, minimalist piano, and slide guitar — stretches the very definition of its title, while "Honey Suicide" builds up a subtle premise of angular basslines and soaring, sun-streaked choruses that will have you feeling elated and depressed at the exact same time. Suckle's brand of enchanted unhappiness should not be undervalued: The simple folk-pop of the past may be just a shadow, but this is the sound of a confused personality just aching to be discovered.