Fruit Bats - The Ruminant Band (LP, Sub Pop)

After a hiatus of four years during which he became a member of the Shins and Vetiver, Eric D. Johnson returns to the Fruit Bats to give us another offering of Americana and sun-soaked folk. This time, it appears that he's going to stay for good, as he says in his blog: "After three years or so, Fruit Bats are back in the saddle. I spent the last couple of years playing in The Shins (a fine day job if there ever was one), but I’m back in full force with the first love of my musical life. Songs have been written. Recording dates have been written in permanent ink. To prove that I’m serious about this, Fruit Bats will be touring the west coast of the United States of America. How ‘bout it? Other parts of the country, as well as other nations, will be visited later in the year."

Since the initial inception of the Fruit Bats in 1999, they've seen a rotation of nearly 25 members, believe it or not. In keeping with that theme, The Ruminant Band features yet another cast of characters, of whom few have worked with the Fruit Bats before. Nonetheless, this is a thoroughly collaborative release.

The Fruits Bats stay close to their 70's-inspired roots. It's hard not to hear Neil Young in the guitar on "Primitive Man" and "Feather Bed", or Fleetwood Mac in the opening riff on the title track. Heck, they even reference Three Dog Night in the plaintive "Singing Joy to the World". Not to forget the Rolling Stones-inspired chorus on "Tegucigalpa". A bit of the Allman Brothers Band sprinkled all over completes the package.

The Fruit Bats exemplify a band that is content to create easygoing songs with unashamed nods to the past, allowing you to get lost in eerily soothing indie-folk tunes that will leave you wondering what decade it is.

The Fruit Bats are around to stay for a while, but it's nice to know that Eric Johnson has Other Career Options , just in case this doesn't work out. Somehow, I don't see him as a Swashbuckling Ichthyologist, so lets hope it doesn't come to that.

Iron & Wine - The Shepherd's Dog (LP, Sub Pop)

Sam Beam is the aural equivalent of a blanket - warm and comforting. His latest album, The Shepherd's Dog, is no different. While this album is a departure from the low-fi beginnings of his previous albums, The Creek That Drank the Cradle and Our endless Numbered Days (his first album was recorded and produced entirely by Beam himself in his home), Beam retains his trademark intimate finger picking and harmonised vocals.

With The Shepherd's Dog, Beam takes his craft to a new level while not resorting to the conventions of a traditional singer-songwriter. Instead of the gently strummed acoustic guitar and occasional banjo that characterized his first recordings, Beam surrounds himself with lush and imaginative arrangements. Gone is the lo-fi, dude-in-his-bedroom recording, replaced by a clearer more inclusive production. However, Beam's flawless phrasing and whispered vocals remain firmly at the epicentre.

The tracks on the album are not recognizably Iron Wine, from the bouncy opener "Pagan Angel and a Borrowed Car" to the psychedelic swirls of piano on "Lovesong of the Buzzard" and the thick electric guitar lines and sitar of "White Tooth Man".

Without a doubt, this is Beam's most experimental moment, with nearly every track tangled in crisscrossing melodic lines, whether the fuzzy pedal steel and handclaps of "Boy With a Coin" or the squawky harmonica of "House by the Sea". Beam is at his best, however, on the uncluttered "Flightless Bird, American Mouth", which has one of the album's most effective hooks.

The Shepherd's Dog is definitely Beam's most adventurous release to date, and though one might miss the discarded, sparse sound of early Iron & Wine, the beauty & splendor of The Shepherd's Dog will leave you wanting more.