The Crosswalks, New Ghost Lights (Self-released)

[May 16th, 2007] [NO-NONSENSE JANGLE POP] It might seem unlikely that a band with three singer-songwriters could put together a coherent album (or even get along well enough to record an album), but that's just what local jangle-pop trio the Crosswalks has done on its full-length debut. And New Ghost Lights isn't just coherent, it's really good.

Perhaps that's because the band's members—guitarist-vocalist Brendan McCracken, bassist-vocalist Emily Vidal and drummer-vocalist Dave Shur—work with, instead of against, one another. Within the first 10 seconds of the album, they perfectly meld prickly, bright guitar notes with thumping drums and a meandering, melodic bass line; within the first 20, the band's three singers have delivered the album's opening lyrics as one choir-rific unit. But it's not a generic blending that allows the songs on New Ghost Lights to get along, either. Each songwriter's voice and style are recognizable and distinct, but the musicians so expertly embellish one another's strengths that the result is, naturally, a completely unified band sound.

When Shur launches into a characteristically goofy, high-pitched refrain of "ooh ooh ooh" on "Barrow to the Beach," for instance, McCracken grounds the song in an angular, Built to Spill-style guitar part that mirrors Shur's melody. Later in the same song, the group sings the chorus in a round—and it's not at all cheesy. Similarly, while Vidal's Calvin Johnson-meets-Elvis Costello voice is at its lackadaisical best on "Voices," the song wouldn't be nearly as interesting without the band's noise-rattled, Pixies-style interruptions and the guys' sugary, '60s-ish backing vocals during the outro.

From McCracken's rhythmic wordplay on "Find Time for Wind Time" to Shur's mellow lead vocals and beach-inspired drums on "Takedown Boogie" or Vidal's flat, drawn-out delivery on "Buildings and Barns," this band is a team—which is exactly why it doesn't matter whose design is behind any particular track. Rather than fighting for the limelight, each member of the Crosswalks seems to embrace the same musical priorities: Make it catchy, and make it feel good.

So, when the Crosswalks join voices yet again on lo-fi sing-along "In a Kiln," belting the words, "They don't make 'em like they used to/ They try but they never can," the musicians negate their own words. Refreshingly, New Ghost Lights doesn't feel like it's trying. It's the good, old-fashioned result of teamwork—the result of three capable songwriters joining forces to create something greater than the sum of its parts.