The Sleepy Jackson

Two things are obvious upon first listening to The Sleepy Jackson’s Lovers. Front man Luke Steele knows how to put together a solid pop song, even with minimal lyrical content; and he learned his craft by studying the best. Those buying Lovers based on the Australians’ opening act for My Morning Jacket are in for a surprise, though. In a, “oh, here’s that dollar bill I lost, right here in my coat pocket” kind of surprise. Where it’s not a shock, just unexpected. While the Australian foursome’s live stage presence and feedback-heavy windmill riffing crackle with energy like a downed power line in an elementary school playground, their studio work is more akin to a gently rocking seesaw with equal weight on either end.

With an ever-present indie feel, Lovers oscillates from sublime pop on “This Day” and “Come To This” to country-tinged pseudo-ballads like “Acid In My Heart” and “Miniskirt,” in which you can almost picture Steele’s mustachioed visage and hairy legs strutting down the streets of Bakersfield in a leather mini and stiletto heels. And culturally sensitive southerners will forgive him for his Australian-inflected Georgia accent on “Old Dirt Farmer,” a country song about Texas, just because it’s so darned cute. The pop songs have a definite new wave flavor. “Don’t You Know” juxtaposes creepy church organs and synth bass lines with a happy sounding choir, and “Tell the Girls I’m Hangin Out” combines the early eighties vibe with vocals that are a cross between Thurston Moore and Robert Smith. Somehow, Electric Light Orchestra finds its way into the mix as well.

Lovers is by no means a rockin’ good time, but it’s not a pity party either. It’s more like a low-key cocktail party, and all your friends are there. Jeff Tweedy schmoozes with Elvis Costello. The Strokes are chillin’ by the pool with Bob Dylan and Simon LeBon as Ric Okasek orders another round for his new pal Thom Yorke. But somewhere in the shadows, the spirit of George Harrison watches over all of this and smiles, for he knows the party is for him. His signature slide guitar sound is omnipresent. It’s unmistakable on some numbers, like “Good Dancers” and “This Day,” and a bit more subtle on others, but it’s always there, reminding us what we’re missing. Mixed in with some great melodies, a few na-na-nas, a dash of ooh-ooh and a dollop of ah-ah-aaaah, it becomes a spectacular album. It’s not groundbreaking. For the most part, The Sleepy Jackson are just rehashing existing ideas. But they do it well. At the least, Lovers is a not-so-guilty pleasure, and many will find it to be one of their favorite dark horse albums this year.

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