JIMSON WEED — Nathan

FILE UNDER: Sweethearts of the rodeo. 

LOWDOWN: Some roots acts tie themselves in knots trying to be as nostalgically authentic as possible. Not Nathan. 

That's not a backhanded compliment — just an observation of the way these quirky alt-country popsters carry themselves on their endearing sophomore disc (and major-label debut) Jimson Weed. Sure, the strummy acoustic guitars and plucky banjos, the wheezing accordion and haunting pedal steel — not to mention the gentle melodies, girlish vocals and homespun harmonies of Keri McTighe and Shelley Marshall — give these 14 snappy tracks a warm, woodsy, back-porch-at-sunset feel. But even at their darkest and most rustically Appalachian, you get the sense that Nathan put honesty and immediacy before verisimilitude.

Clearly, these tracks aren't meant to serve as museum pieces. Otherwise, we wouldn't hear contemporary touches like the rocky stomp of Big Galoot, the howling Theremin of Discarded Debris and the twangy electric guitars throughout this 47-minute disc. McTighe's lyrics, however, are the biggest giveaway, poetically mixing the madness and murder of gothic Americana with the creative imagery of modern music. 

"I've got gadgets that mold the things that are old into sleek facsimiles of what was once guaranteed to please," she says, eloquently — if wordily — summing up the situation. We would put it this way: It's not that Nathan don't care about where they came from. They're just far more interested in where they're going. 

And judging by the strength of Jimson Weed, the sky's the limit.

TELLING SONG TITLE: Lock Your Devils Up.