is your early morning wake up album. It opens somewhere in that space between dreaming and waking, meandering along a gentle arc of gathering intensity. The five song free download was released earlier this month on Hush Records as a teaser to their forthcoming full-length studio album. Sung entirely in Spanish and featuring some of Portland’s preeminent recording talents, Debutantes is thoughtful and elegant.

My pick for the album’s standout, however, is definitely “Drawn To You.” There’s something about lyrics like, “I’ll rough you up buddy if you fuck with me,” the “tough-guy” attitude in complete contrast to the easy going instrumentation and his gently cracking voice. I love that. It makes me want to call up Will and ask him if he’ll write more lyrics like that. I’d say, “Thank you for combining soft melodies with lines about fights.”

Le Petit Mort, “the little death,” otherwise known as the orgasm, is now also a self-released album from raspy troubadour, Leonard Mynx. Ecstasy and death have always been intimately acquainted, and Mynx skillfully intertwines these two themes during the course of 8 tracks plucked from the sessions for his upcoming LP, Son of the Famous So-and-So. Mynx has always been something of an enigmatic presence in Portland music.

Heading To The Coast comes out swinging with jangly guitar, 60’s organ parts, Momma’s and Papa’s voice harmonies even the kitchen sink of a horn section in the opener, “Couldn’t Tell You”. What the heck were The Caps trying to do to me!?! These aren’t songs for the winter.

Steve Hefter made an album. He even recorded some of it in his bedroom. But what separates Steve Hefter and his record Selma from the droves of bearded bedroom bards is something that they just don’t have, or better yet, that they don’t know how to tap into.

Lance Andrew Leonnig is a bit of a recluse. As such his music usually conjurs up an image of a man sitting in the basement. There in the dark, toiling away at his guitar to tell a story in his head. A song for a girl he’s never met, for a country he doesn’t totally understand and writing music without any contrived outside influence.

CCL’s waltzing, grooving, jaunty, steady, marching, and meandering rhythms frame an impenetrably surreal shell where, ironically (in the context of such fine drumming), time becomes arbitrary, non-linear. “Rewind the tape i wanna listen to my first mistake,” Gray pleads and, under such circumstances, one would conclude he can.

Kelly Bauman’s “Gomorrah” is fluidly cohesive, subtly unpredictable. Recurring sonic themes– jangling arpeggios rolling beneath foreboding pedal steel; his and her voice uniquely, intuitively, intermittently in unison, harmony; the warmth of multiple microphones magnifying the strumming, picking— buoys each earnest account (of surreal occasions, daily rebirth).

It’s obvious that St. Frankie Lee has big ambitions for this record within it’s first moments. “A First Song” is a collage of A.M. radio and T.V. excerpts with strings arranged behind it. It seems like a great opening curtain to the album.

Lyrically, musically, and stylistically switching gears, often mid-song, one gets the impression the Junkies are collectively and frantically searching the musical landscape for some high ground no one else is haunting. That said, the second track begins a series of poignant reminders: how tenderly familiar such a search can sound.

The reality is that you have to give Wagner a lot of credit for being able to produce such and extensive album of hooks and choruses. Songs like “Warning Signs”, “Let’s Go” and “Boston” can make your Aunt tap her feet while being the hipster’s guilty pleasure. It’s the grey area that many artists wish they could tap in to. For Sean Wagner, it just comes naturally.

The first thing I noticed about the new Sallie Ford and The Sound Outside e.p., “Not An Animal” is that it makes me drive faster than normal. The opening track, “Danger” starts innocently enough. A playful song about attraction, with an unforgettable riff that launches into a chorus of “ohh’s” , and the next thing I know, I’m speeding in my girlfriend’s rickety station wagon through a construction zone.

My first encounter with the new Black Heart Moon album, “Lovers and Makers”, was seeing hundreds of unfolded cardboard CD cases on their drying lines. Catherine Odell and Perry Pfister are skilled screen printers, and their little outdoor garage/print studio is lovingly kept and well lived in.

When I heard that local songstress Jennie Wayne was collaborating for a project I had but one thing on my mind. It had better be good. I would hate to have a talent line Wayne fall to the wayside due to an unnecessary compromise with another artist. At the same time, it was hard to believe Wayne would work on something that had no integrity. However, I’ve been disappointed before.

The trend in popular folk music as of late has been an attempt to redefine it. Relying on artistic impression and enigmatic lyrical choice, young folk is more about the aesthetic than it is storytelling. While there is merit to this particular approach to the genre, there is still a need to perform folk music in a more pure form.

Nearly three years in the making and 20 tracks long, At Dusk’s 4th and final record, Small Light, naturally wants to lend itself to words like “opus,” “swan song” and “master-work.” Ironically, however, At Dusk’s most grandiose project finds them at their most minimalist, musically. Of the 20 compositions that make up Small Light, 9 of them are under three minutes in length, and only two of them run over four.

Make no mistake, Ezza Rose’s ambitions are hardly misplaced. If I were to ascribe the word “potential” to just one budding songwriter, of the thousands that inhabit our singer/songwriter-saturated city, she would get it hands down. Her smoky, confident and mature vocal style, her clever songwriting and keen sense for melody belie her few years.

You know what garage band is right? It’s that program that comes stock on a lot of macs. It’s sort of a watered down pro tools/reason program that lets a lot of people try to make recordings. Most people dont’ get much from this other than scratch tracks. That is, however, unless you are the talent that Jennie Wayne is.

For this review, I have a scenario I’m counting on: You don’t know who Come Gather Round Us is. There’s a good reason for that, seeing as how they just formed in January, after moving to Portland, and although Catherine Feeny’s prior solo project enjoyed some success in the UK, her name doesn’t resonate across the pond just yet.

The quote above is the opening line to the literary noir of Leonard Mynx’s Vesper.  It’s a bit of a downer, but don’t let that stop you from listening.  A transcendent album of subdued pain and enigmatic troubles, Vesper disguises it’s cryptic dysfunction with folk rock lullabies.

Mike Apinyakul, a.k.a Shoeshine Blue, is from Missouri.  He likes the blues, he likes Skip James, George Jones and Bob Dylan to name a few.  On his first full scale Portland release, Talk Real Slow, that was evident. His opinion of that record may surprise you, as he feels there was a lot more that could have been. 

Brian Rozendal is a literature graduate. It becomes very obvious from the beginning of “Lean” that he has the tools to articulate just about anything.  Now with all his vast knowledge what would he decide to write about? Maybe 19th century prose a la Decemberists? Maybe fictional story tales of grandiose metaphors regarding our countries current political polarity?

Talking to people about town recently, I keep running into debates about genre and folk music. I had one person respond with honest shock and indignation when I called the Fleet Foxes “choral pop.” Another agreed with me when I said calling Devendra Banhart a “freak folk” act was the worst classifier in recent memory.

I began to stream the album, opening up with the song “Bright Lights”. It’s an intimate setting for the rest to unfold with quiet production and an absolutely impeccable melody choice. The opening line is sung honestly a la Patsy Cline. It so easily could sound trite but Audie is able to quickly showcase her knack for emotive performance.

I am still working out what I believe is Portland’s motives behind it’s Americana bands. Many times I feel like most of them come off as contrived side projects to this city’s already established “experimental” artists. These bands realizing that during national turmoil we always flock to songwriting as our placebo.