Bustello

Bustello are the cool older kids from up the block. They're still rockers, sure, it's just that along the way, they've learned how a little flair can make a song. It could be the Duane Eddy-invoking guitar solo in the smoky sway of "Playground," the muscular, Meat Puppets-suggestive bass line powering "Down South," or the way the harmonies swell to punctuate the lines of "Ocean," like psychedelic art rock acts such as early Genesis and the Moody Blues. Trust: It's there. Time and again, frontman Ben Clarke's guitar work wows on Bustello's eight-song, self-titled debut EP. The palette's wide—smoldering rockabilly, slashing '70s New York punk cadged from Television, distortion drenched psych rock jangle. The leads are inventive without being all that showy. Clarke's voice makes up for that. It's a spotlight stealer. His quavering baritone—arch, plaintive and coy, like Morrissey hedging his bets—has a glammy strut. Between the guitar slinging and the singing, Clarke's created some very distinctive, arresting music with a theatrical air.

Clarke's history goes back to the early '90s, when he led Metal Flake Mother with Jimbo Mathus. He's joined here by bassist/ producer John Plymale, who helmed Triangle icons Sex Police and The Pressure Boys before becoming a go-to local producer (Superchunk, Squirrel Nut Zippers, Valient Thorr), and drummer Jody Maxwell, who has played with both Clarke and Plymale previously. The experience is evident in the craft: Each of the band's songs ends before the four-minute mark, yet manages to create its own impression. Bustello's poised to do the same. —Chris Parker