Umbrellas

The debut album from this Midwestern trio (a quintet when in the studio) is a collection of refreshingly timeless weirdo pop music — tuneful without being aggressively hooky, analog-sounding without being aggressively retro, unabashedly emotional without being emo. If someone told you these songs had been written in 1975 you might not bat an eye, nor would you be surprised to learn that they were written in 2004. Bandleader Scott Windsor sings in a dreamy, slightly affected style that lies somewhere between Gart Greenside's effeminate whisper and labelmate Bryce Avary's apple-cheeked enthusiasm. The band supplies soft and billowy accompaniment, and when he belts out the soaring refrain on "Ghost" or tiptoes through the more delicate (but equally gorgeous) melody of "Broken Ice," it's pure goose-pimple time. Moments like those make it easy to overlook the preciousness of the little lyric quotes under the song titles on the back of the package or goofy, faux-elegant song titles like "June, Summer, Rose." The fact is, Windsor does come across as more than a little bit pretentious at various moments throughout the album. But you can't hold it against him when he delivers the pure pop goods as effectively as he does here. And this is just the first album, folks.