Merging Bacharachian pop cool with psychedelic americana guitar lines and French lyrics (the band is French, so that last part isn't some stupid bit of Brooklynian pretension or anything), Kacimi floats along almost effortlessly. Every small piece fits just so, though the playing is so offhanded that it sounds spontaneous.

Kacimi Gyrophare (Le Pop Club)

That sort of attention to detail is rare. And I don't know exactly what inspired this particular approach. There are more than a few Lee Hazlewood moments, but Kacimi has so completely insulated its sound that it doesn't really compare strongly to much else on the planet.

And yet . . . this mindful wandering sure does have a comfy blanket feel to it. The sophistication level is high, but the songs themselves are presented as piffles. Piffles with steel backbones. There is so much going on within each song that it takes a few listens to unravel completely.

Or, instead of overthinking things, it's possible to settle back with a glass of wine and smile a wry, knowing smile. I can pretend I know what Kacimi is saying as well as the next person. If this is a piffle, then it's the mother of all piffles.

Jon Worley