Somewhere between Patsy Cline and the idiosyncratic indie pop of, say, Cat Power, Milly Raccoon spins her tales. Yeah, these are totally rooted in country music (with an obvious love of the torch), but the presentation is almost entirely scrubbed clean. Not antiseptic as such, but simply devoid of reverb, distortion or anything harsh. Every element is presented pristinely, especially Raccoon's voice.

Milly Raccoon Frankincense and Myrrh (self-released)

That voice is the big talking point. She sings as if she's a woman done wrong (or a woman who might do wrong), but her voice never loses its effervescent clarity. It's almost as if she's amused by what she's singing about. I don't think it's a commentary, exactly, but the effect can be unsettling.

Her arrangements are impressive, but they never quite escape the music box effect. After getting used to the sound, I grew to like it. Certainly, almost no one tries to sound like this--and there's no way Raccoon wants to sound anything BUT like this. The sweet sounds combined with her voice can come across as bizarre at times, and I really like that. It's not friction, but it does raise arm hairs with frequency.

This is the sort of album to inspire a small legion of devoted fans and a larger group of people who stare incoherently at the speaker, wondering exactly what they're hearing. Again, I think that's the plan, and it worked well for me. I can't say I agree with all of the choices here, but I do like the way they send me off-kilter. Wonderfully weird.

Jon Worley