[02.04] It's no secret that I've got a weakness for the one-man-band. People who display such obsessive dedication to their own notions of how songs should sound will always have my respect. I mean, you've got to admit that those who are motivated enough to tackle multiple instruments just because they want to express themselves with an undiluted purity of intent are due a certain doff o' the cap.

But it's also no secret that these plans often can lead to the disappointment of both the musician as well as the listener. For every Nyles Lannon or Brant Bjork, there are twice as many Tiny Tims. That's why any musician talented enough to produce music that makes you believe that you're listening to a group of seasoned performers is so noteworthy. And that's why Faris Nourallah is such a delightful discovery.

Faris' album, Problematico, isn't just a salute to the pop music of yesteryear, it is a continuation of the alchemical research of John Lennon, Brian Wilson, John Philips and even Ray Manzarek and Jerry Garcia. But while the flavors of the Beatles ("A Day to Remember"), The Mamas & the Papas ("You've Got It Made") or the Grateful Dead ("Sometimes I Dream I'm A Country") can be tasted, Nourallah skillfully avoids cramming the '60s down the listener's throat, limiting himself to a chord progression here, a familiar harmony there. And, most importantly, Problematico isn't cut to sound like a lost treasure from the EMI or Elektra vaults. It's neither tired nor sycophantic; Nourallah's album shouldn't be compared to the performers I mentioned earlier, he should simply be added to the catalogue.

Many songs are sub-three minute odes to whimsy that manage to be less bubblegum and more champagne. A few tracks, such as "Moscow in the Morning" are a bit darker, but the melancholy we hear is that of a storybook prince or princess, heartbroken and unreachable. The essential sentiment of most of the songs, though, is exactly what makes pop music enjoyable and endurable: weightless, elegant, removed commentary on the everyday and the surreal. (Occasionally, of course, a track like "Start a Revolution" or "Sick On The Escalator" overdoses on righteousness or otherwise misses its mark. But these missteps are soon forgiven.)

For its simplicity of feeling, Problematico is an example of sophisticated execution. On several tracks, Nourallah masterfully layers two-part harmony, a couple of guitars, organ or synth, piano, bass, and drums while managing to maintain a clear, uncluttered production. And his voice never fails to please, always soft and warm, smoothly ducking in and out of melodies.

Still not convinced? The fact is that we're creeping up on spring and the first warm Sunday demands that you listen to Problematico. Like all good pop tunes, the songs will make it seem that some small part of life has become a bit brighter and maybe even easier.

And have I mentioned one guy performs everything you hear on the album? —JC