The incongruities are amazing. Butch Bastard is Ian Murray, who was a member of Poor Moon (among other thing). He is expert at crafting americana-tinged classic rockers. And he gives them titles like "Waiting for a Hot Pocket" and "Tina Turner Legs/Richard Nixon Eyes"--with matching lyrics.

Butch Bastard Las Vegas Salvation (self-released)

But this is not satire. The music is meticulous and straitlaced, and the lyrics are delivered in a straightforward way. So, about the jokes. Or whatever they are. I think Murray simply likes ear-catching turns of phrase. There's no snark or even so much as an eye roll. And unlike the Flaming Lips, where Wayne plays the freak card liberally. Murray lays his ideas down with minimal fanfare.

And boy, do these songs sound great. Combining all the best elements of cosmic country, indie rock and totally-earnest AOR, these songs are some of the best I've heard in ages. I haven't heard anyone tap into this vein so successfully in a long time. And the wide-open production sound allows all of the elements to flower fully. Kinda like if George Martin produced a Tom Petty album, except with a wider musical palette.

I kept waiting for this to devolve into something silly. From Murray's choice to name, to the album cover to the lyrics, this all screams "put on." But it's not. The cognitive dissonance required to listen to this is extreme enough. I can't imagine actually recording this set. But it sure is a stone cold stunner. The whole package is a wild rush.

Jon Worley