Welcome to 100 Calorie Packs, the NDFY guide to what’s yankin’ our chain and what’s got a one-way ticket to the resale counter at Reckless Records…all in 100 words or less. Who’s got time to read the kind of overwrought, verbose, and self-important reviews that leave you wondering if the writer even listened to the album, or if he’s just stroking himself with his thesaurus? So here we go, ripe for consumption – 7 reviews and 7 mp3 goodies, all in 100 words or less.

Up to bat: David Dondero and Joe Pug.

On deck after the click through: Eskimo Joe, Oakley Hall, A.A. Bondy, Plane, and Boddicker.

David Dondero – Simple Love (Team Love)

Dondero recorded Simple Love entirely on analog tape, and there’s a warmth in his desperation as a result. Dondero’s commitment to the bummed-out narrative tradition of the American singer-songwriter doesn’t hurt this record either - the grit in his voice is apparent when hushed or howling, and quasi-fucked up lyrics like “”I’ll possess your boyfriend’s body, then you’ll be making love to me” prove that Dondero’s dark enough to be more than passably interesting. Think a less self-conscious, more swaggering Conor Oberst.

David Dondero – The Prince William Sound

Joe Pug – 5 Music Songs (self-released)

Joe Pug is a local Chicago kid who’s been writing songs for all of 6 months, which is why you haven’t heard of him. But that’s why you’re here, I hope, so I’m not going to insult your intelligence by telling you who Pug will remind you of. Just listen to “Hymn 101” and think about what kind of lyrics you would’ve written at 22, and then go back to reading blogs and feeling untalented like I did.

Joe Pug – Hymn 101

Eskimo Joe – Black Fingernails, Red Wine (Ryko)

My promo copy of Eskimo Joe’s LP arrived with a mini bottle of Shiraz, and I do believe Ryko is sending libations out with this record to soften reviewer’s criticisms. That’s not to say this is a bad record – quite the contrary – but I don’t think this band will do the damage Stateside that they’ve done in their native Australia. It matters not to me, as I dig the sweeping soundscapes and epic-ocity (it’s a word, I swear) of their vast, arena-ready rock balladry. Think a less-snooty Coldplay…you’ll like it, and so will your mom.

Eskimo Joe – New York

Oakley Hall – I’ll Follow You (Merge)

This record makes me feel like I should be stoned. Part Sun Volt, part Neil Young, all making me wish I knew how to play rocknroll banjo. A couple of descriptions I came across that are fitting are “new psychedelic outlaws” and “cosmic Americana.” It’s true – these former blog darlings are touching on that weird space between Crazy Horse and Uncle Tupelo that’s popular of late, and Oakley Hall are jamming somewhere in a literary trailer park in the middle of Williamsburg.

Oakley Hall – No Dreams

A.A. Bondy – American Hearts (Superphonic)

I dig Scott Bondy’s guitar melodies more than is sort of blah voice, but the songs here are unpretentious and honest enough to warrant more than a few spins. The record comes across as a mostly-unrelevatory collection of dark-ish folk songs, but in a comfortable way – like he and his guitar would be a really great addition to a summer bonfire.

A.A. Bondy – How Will You Meet Your End?

Plane – I See Love in the Future (self-released)

I wish this band was any good live, because then I could wholeheartedly recommend this album. It’s got everything you’d hope to have in a bedroom electro-pop delicacy – tasteful use of canned drums, a lushness to the arrangements that supersedes the sound and “feel” of a live band in the studio. Unfortunately for Plane, despite the rapid digitalization of life in the 21^st century…people still want to see the songs they like on tape come to life on stage.

Plane – I See Love In The Future

Boddicker – Big Lionhearted and the Gallant Man (Banter)

Brian Deck produced this record, and that old Modest Mouse-vast, spaced out build is all over it. That’s a great thing, mind you, and Deck reaches beyond Caleb Boddicker’s undeveloped voice to pull out the real heart in his electic songwriting. There’s a knowing naivety at work here, and the result could loosely be billed as freak folk but has far more depth than, say, Devendra Banhardt. This is the kind of album most songwriters pray to make in their 30’s, 40’s, or ever, and Boddicker can’t even legally buy a highball of whiskey.

Boddicker – Mississippi Beautiful, You Know I Love You

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