Jr. Juggernaut, Ghost Poison

There’s something warm and genuine-sounding about this disc that really gets me in those interior spaces I don’t think about too much most of the time. I mean, it’s hard to mine the roots-rock thing and not throw off a Mellencampian, small-town-homesick vibe, sure, but Jr. Juggernaut manage to go above and beyond roots-by-numbers and come up with something real on Ghost Poison. They meld together the fuzzy-edged pop/rock of the late ’90s (think Gin Blossoms, or occasionally Buffalo Tom) with the out-and-out alt-country sound of Lucero or Son Volt and graft the whole thing to some Springsteenian lyricism and Replacements-ish swagger; it’s all Neil Young guitars, imperfect (yet tuneful) sing-along choruses, bitterly sweet melodies, and comfortingly familiar rhythms. There’re echoes of Old 97’s here, as well as indie roots-rock barnburners Blackpool Lights, who are probably Jr. Juggernaut’s closest contemporary musical cousins.

The best tracks on Ghost Poison are the ones that grab hold of the roots-country rock anthem motif and just don’t let go. There’s album opener “Lit By Winter,” which is jangly and warm like the best things The Jayhawks ever did and the chorus of which practically begs you to add your own harmony vocals. It’s jaw-dropping, despite the fact that it’s pretty much the audio diary of a kinda-creepy (if admittedly romantic) stalker; it’s possibly the most endearing song about stalking since “Every Breath You Take.” The song’s actually kind of a microcosm of the band’s whole appeal — it’s sweet but rough around the edges at the same time, with an anthemic, impossible-not-to-sing-along-to chorus, a downhome feel, and a warm, gentle cheeriness about it, in spite of the somewhat odd story that unfolds in the lyrics.

The same holds true for “Gone Before You Start,” which is rolling and country-tinged rock that’s heartbreaking once you listen more closely to the lyrics and realize what the song’s about; after you’ve hit that point, it becomes both beautiful and crushingly sad. “Believe In Something” starts off a little preachy and born-again-y (and yeah, there’s a bit of talking ’bout the Big Man Upstairs on this disc) but builds to an impassioned roar, and “Coming In Backward” makes me think (favorably) of Teenage Fanclub’s rootsiest moments, grafted onto guitars from Blackpool Lights’ “The Truth About Love.” All the tracks mentioned above, incidentally, pretty much drop me where I stand, as does oddball acoustic instrumental “Midnight Mass,” which is more meditative and peaceful than I honestly thought the blues could ever be.

Ghost Poison‘s not perfect, of course — there’s a handful of missteps on here, like the dirty grind of “Early Morning Blackout,” which is actually a decent song (and probably the most “rock” song of the bunch, with seriously crunchy distortion and honest-to-God solos) but which drags on without a whole lot to propel it forward. At 6:08, it’s the longest track of the album, and I hate to say it, but you definitely feel it.

“Breathing, Grieving” and “The Beehive,” for their part, are both just kind of “eh,” breezing past without making much of an impression and making me want to skip back around to the beginning to listen to “Lit By Winter” one more time. With songs like that one to go back to, I’m not real bummed about a few clunkers in the pile.