As much a mash-up of his two prior albums – 2005’s out-of-print debut Self Serving and 2008’s bristling The Year I Grew Up — On Mountain Timeis highlighted by the spartan “Too Scared To Run,” and the introspective “Lost Generation.” The former is a meditation on ambivalence and inactivity while the latter ruminates over complacency and unhappiness. An admitted fan of alt.country Cook wears those influences on his sleeve on the disc’s opening number and the sultry ‘Reno Desert Wind.”

The disc’s best numbers though are the hopeful “I’m Starting Today;” the rustic “Smoke Rise,” featuring members of the Zac Brown Band; and the near-perfect highway lullaby “Sleeping at 75.” On that particular cut, Cook says and does so much in just 5 minutes and 20 seconds, it feels almost criminal to think that such a song can go so widely ignored.

Though he initially made his name as the co-collaborator on some of John Mayer’s earliest hits, Cook indeed lets his true colors shine on this ever-impressive gem of a disc.

For an excursion in the odd and avant-garde, look no further than the Estonian film The Temptation of St. Tony. Shot in black and white and using a loose narrative, this eccentric, unpredictable and altogether zany brain-bender revolves around Tony, a son mourning the loss of his father. But The Temptation of St. Tony is far from a funereal symphony to love, loss and how to cope. Instead it challenges perceptions of religion, morality and conscience. Is it too absurd? Probably. Is it worth seeing? Absolutely.

For starters, lead actor Taavi Eelmaa is a rare talent. He literally says and does so much with only facial gestures and quiet, understated body language. From contemplating how to correctly fire his co-workers to ruminating over what to do with disposed body parts, this black comedy goes places few films ever would.

In the end, St. Tony’s hallmark is its daring director Ounpuu, who has shown a flair for the avant-garde with 2007’s Autumn Ball. Much like that film, St. Tony is eccentric and languorously paced. But, the film was screened at Sundance and Ounpuu was at the receiving end of praise and admiration. Does this mean he’ll pen a film like Monster’s Ball or Y Tu Mama Tambien? Probably not. But New Zealand’s Peter Jackson was once a b-movie sci-fi junkie catering to an oft-ignored niche, when he took a chance on a beloved ancient text and turned it into Oscar gold. Stranger things have indeed happened.

if anything, at least Estonian cinema is being recognized by a global audience. And that is never a bad thing

Nominated for Best Foreign Film at this year’s Oscars, The Milk of Sorrow is a restrained, languid and ever-important film. Claudia Llosa crafts a distant and muted story about Fausta, a woman who is certain she’s stricken with the milk of sorrow. Though it’s medical credibility is questioned by a Lima doctor, Fausta has been told by her late mother that the disease is passed on through her breasts and has indeed infected her.

What is the Milk of Sorrow? In essence its a psychological toxin, and for Fausta, an unbearable horror she wants no part of. Using a potato as a contraceptive in an attempt to ward off boys, Fausta stays closed and guarded, interacting only with her immediate family members. In many ways, the milk of sorrow shadows and defines her every move.

Though the idea sounds so inane and off-base, the atrocities Fausta’s mother endured at the hands of the Shining Path –––– repeated gang rapes for starters ––– make her folkloric proclamation that much more believable. Clearly anyone that has undergone such havoc and devastation would certainly be scarred for a long time.

Fausta’s mother’s pain is the very point that makes The Milk of Sorrow so profound. Without her presence, the film would most certainly stumble and fall flat. Shot mostly at a distance and moving at a painful crawl, it’s a startling film but one that moves without a pulse or heartbeat. Magaly Solier’s performance as Fausta is star-making and transcendent, but one strong performance doesn’t define a film.

In the end, The Milk of Sorrow’s best assets are its honest look at low-income Peruvian life and its depiction of women. Llosa. a relative newcomer to South American cinema has garnered acclaim at various festivals for her debut film MadeInUSA, and The Milk of Sorrow builds on that praise. Though its cinema industry isn’t well-revered, having been noticed by the Oscars is certainly a positive step forward and one can only hope Llosa inspires hordes of other Peruvian filmmakers to take similar chances and make edgy films like this.
The Milk of Sorrow opens in New York and Los Angeles, later this month.

One of the infinite pleasures of maintaining this humble blog is the abundance of submissions that flood both our inboxes and homes. One of the more recent submissions is Boston singer-songwriter Tavonna Miller, who has recently released a five song EP entitled Four Songs I Wish I Wrote And One I Actually Did. Okay, so it’s not the most clever of titles, but still, points for trying.

Opening up with a staggering cover of Macy Gray’s “I Try,” Miller sets the tone from the very first note. She’s a gal with huge pipes and enough sass and pep to scare Macy. Well, okay, maybe that last point is a stretch but her version of “I Try,” is an absolute smash.

On Jill Scott’s “My Petition,” the Berklee student slows things down and offers a sultry, sensual R&B ballad without flaw. Though it’s clearly not as good as Scott, it’s still reveals a compelling new voice and a singer-songwriter on the rise in the Northeast.

The disc’s apex is an enchanting and mesmerizing cover of Lizz Wright’s “Speak Your Heart.” Bristling with tenderness, vulnerability and Heather Rose’s lingering guitar, it’s a deeply affecting ballad and one that points to Miller’s inherent talents.

Her stab at Imogen Heap’s “Wait It Out,” has the disc’s most potent commercial appeal and is definitely a cover Miller should make a staple of her repertoire for years to come. Every single second of it moves along with polish, professionalism and enough confidence to make Heap blush.

The EP closes with “Me And My Baby,” a timeless, bare-bones piano ballad in which Miller sounds more comfortable and relaxed than on any prior cut. That last fact is what makes Four Song I Wish I Wrote, so disappointing. Miller clearly has worlds of talent and knows her way around a song, so why did she resort to four covers? Being that “Me And My Baby,” is her lone original and is also dynamic, powerful and compelling, makes the end result a bit frustrating. One can easily surmise she has a dozen tracks like this up her sleeve, so why resort to four covers?

In the end, one can only hope an EP or full-length of only original material is on the horizon. Sure enough, Boston has once again done it again, only this time with R&B. Tavonna Miller is a surging talent on the rise and it won’t be long before she’s selling out venues like the House of Blues and The Orpheum.

Adam Ezra Group is a Boston acoustic pop act that has made waves in and around Boston for the past half-decade. To date the group has shared the stage with Jackson Browne, Cracker, Little Feat, Robert Randolph and the Family Band, Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers, Goo Goo Dolls, Guster, John Mayer, Aerosmith, Dave Matthews Band, Pete Seeger, State Radio and many more. View From the Root is the band’s first national release, but their fourth overall recording. Ezra himself has released three solo efforts.

So how is it?

Lengthy but worth the time. Ezra has a supple vocal delivery that is warm and engaging and more importantly, never disappointing. With the exception of “Half a Hero,” which is an attempt at radio rock, very little about View From the Root is alienating. At its core these are harmless acoustic folk narratives. Album opener “Kate,” is charming and sweet, while “Have We Met,” wears its coffeehouse aura to a T. “Another Sunshine,” has a tangible familiarity as it has spent the last few years playing in the movie screen of our minds. “Home Again Soon,” and the political “Basement Song,” may be the album’s best of the first half. Then things even out a bit. “Flyin’,” “Vision” and “Re-Vision,” are all supple, air-tight and well-executed but none of them have that extra something to vault them towards being something worth coming back to.

The swampy “Scandal,” is a sinewy spoken word blues cut replete with harmonica and one of the better story lines put to paper of any album released this year. Rather unexpectedly, the disc moves to a live format with a near three-minute introduction to the song “She’s Just a Girl,” before diving into a live version of the song. That the song is one of the disc’s most inspired is probably why the introduction was included but its placement still feels kind of weird. That being said, listening to Ezra tell the story he sounds very much like an every man, and comes across as down-to-earth and easy to relate to. That simple tactic, though off-kilter and a bit unexpected gives a glimpse into the singer-songwriter that his songs cannot reveal.

Though “You Paint Me,” is a bit of nothing song, the breezy “Naive Little Me,” is a sensual and inspiring four-minutes. The languorous blues jam “Soul’s For,” moves along lazily but features an inspired harmonica and swirling guitarwork. Though it’s probably not his first calling, there’s little reason to think Ezra couldn’t pull off an entire album of blues sendups and “Soul’s For,” and “Scandal,” prove exactly that. Penultimate cut, “Kill Like This,” is a bristling rock gem buttressed by a howling lead guitar and more of Ezra’s sharp lyrics. With the exception of “Half a Hero,” it’s the only song on View From the Root that has a distinct rock background, but whereas that song stumbled from the very start, “Kill Like This,” kicks and spits from the very start. The disc ends with a live studio version of “Wagon Wheel,” a jangly, hip-shaking pop ditty backed by harmonica that Ezra rips through as if he’s played the song his whole life.

From start to finish, View From the Root is awash in hook-laden choruses, rich musicianship and the kind of polish that indicates Ezra might not be Boston’s secret for long. While it does taper off in places, there’s at least a dozen songs on here that reveal a potency and passion far too hard to imitate. So are Billboard charts in store for Ezra? Probably not. But a future in Nashville does not seem out of the question. If anything View From the Root only reaffirms that very notion.

The most startling thing about the Danish film Brotherhood is that the gritty drama is Nicolo Donato’s directorial debut. What’s remarkable about that very fact is that Brotherhood spins a yarn about two neo-Nazi men falling in love. Yep, you heard right. Third Reich goes queer. Much like Ang Lee’s celebrated drama Brokeback Mountain, the film clashes machismo and bravado with tender, age-old compassion. To call it a triumph would be a serious disservice.

Anchored by first-rate performances from Thure Lindhart and David Dencik, the drama has everything that makes supreme film-making. An engaging script? Check. Sterling cinematography? Check. Realistic dialogue? Check. Filmed in dark, dimly lit corners and mostly at night, it’s a haunting and staggering work and one that should most definitely garner positive acclaim when it debuts in New York, next month.

The film’s arc about brutality, bigotry and the search for identity are indubitably poignant and add layers of depth that the non-linear romance does not. Add in Simon Brenting’s wistful soundtrack and there’s very little about Brotherhood that falls flat.

But even great films have their flaws. The film begins with protagonist Lars (Lindhart) being removed from the military for making advances on his comrades but never shows it. Moreover, towards the film’s latter half it introduces the character of Patrick (a brilliant Morten Holst), a fellow neo-Nazi whose rage towards Lars’ affair with Jimmy (Dencik) reveals far more than just anger over the violation of the organization’s creeds. And lastly, there’s very little light shed on Lars’ combative relationship with his parents, which is one of two contributing factors that lead him to the neo-Nazi tribe.

While great filmmaking often leaves the viewer guessing long after the final frame, these holes could have been patched. But they weren’t. In the end, are these hiccups going to sink the film? Not at all. Great filmmaking triumphs over even the smallest of stumbles and Brotherhood towers above its contemporaries. That very fact is elucidated in its winning the Jury Award for Best Film at the International Rome Festival, last year. But how it got ignored at other festivals is still mind-boggling.

All hyperbole aside, there’s one simple thing to take from Brotherhood. Remember the name Nicolo Donato, if this is just his debut, he is most certainly destined for big things.

A band garnering critical acclaim in New York City these days is alt.country act My Cousin, the Emperor, based out of Brooklyn. The group is readying the release of two EP’s later this fall. Recently, vocalist Jason Reischel took the time to sit down and answer some questions. Head to the jump to read the replies.

1. When did you first start feeling a kinship towards country music and alternative country?

Jason: It came to me quite late in the game. I was never a big modern country music fan, even though I grew up in Asheville, North Carolina. My major influences were Buddy Holly, The Beatles, Nat “King” Cole, The Everly Brothers, The Beach Boys, Chuck Berry. I think I started to like or realized I had an affinity for country music through studying The Beatles, and then much later through the influence of Dylan.

I started to listen to The Beatles when I was in sixth grade, and I immediately wanted to play guitar and write music. I decided I could learn more about writing music by studying their influences, so from early on I was listening to what they listened to: Chuck Berry, Arthur Alexander, Little Richard, Smokey Robinson, The Everly Brothers, Elvis Presley. You know, just studying these guys intently. I always had a sense that The Beatles had synthesized what was great in these artists and had taken it to the next level. I was trying to learn from the teachers of the masters.

I think it was only later that I realized how country Elvis and Buddy Holly actually were, and how a lot of The Beatles influences were in fact country music artists. I mean, they even covered Buck Owens and Carl Perkins on record. “Beatle For Sale” is in essence a country-rock album. They went more folk with “Rubber Soul”, but it still has that country feel to it. You can hear country-music elements throughout their career, and I think that’s why people love them. They not only had a country music element, but an R&B Smokey Robinson/ Shirelles element, a Cole Porter pop song element, and an early rock and roll element. I always admired how you could hear those influences in their music too.

I think when I heard what Ryan Adams was doing in the early 2000s that I realized that country music didn’t have to be what George Strait or Johnny Cash or Brooks and Dunn were doing. I love Johnny Cash, but I’m not Johnny Cash, nor could I ever be Johnny Cash. I grew up with too many different influences that are realized in my music. I love good melodies, whether it’s Frank Sinatra, Mozart, or Hank Williams. Hank was a major discovery for me. He’s the best American songwriter of the 20th Century. He just wrote fantastic songs with strong melodies with a little bit of Southern twang to them. It was pop music, no different than what The Beatles or Elvis were doing. I realized that what I loved about pop music also had a history in country music so I embraced it.

I don’t necessarily say I’m going to write an alt-country song. I write what, in my mind, is a British-invasion type pop song, and after it gets recorded and released it is labeled as “alt-country”

2. Though alternative country does have its share of followers in New York City, it’s not widely recognized as a genre that has its roots here. Describe the struggle of being an alt.country band based out of Brooklyn/New York City?

Jason: It’s not really the most ideal city for country music, to be honest. WNYC (New York’s NPR station) named us the Best Band in Brooklyn this year, but when you hear about the music and the scene that is coming out of Brooklyn it’s always about MGMT, Grizzly Bear, The National, TV on the Radio, Dirty Projectors. Bands like that. We’re rarely mentioned with those guys because we don’t really fit into that scene sonically, even though many of the people that dig those bands dig us.

There is a huge singer-songwriter scene in NYC. Alt-Country gets lumped in with them. Most Singer-Songwriters are considered folk, and after you electrify them, they become alt-country/ alt-folk/ anti-folk…whatever that is, so it’s not that unheard of to see pedal steel guitars at a gig. The local music press doesn’t really write about it though. It’s too busy covering the noise that is coming out of Williamsburg.

There is a danger that country music in NYC could be seen as a novelty, but I think if your songs are strong and they touch people, then regardless of their previous bias with country music, they are going to be moved and give you a chance. I have a saying that I tell my band: “Everyone loves country music, they just don’t know it”.

3. What’s been the biggest challenge in writing new material? Now that the debut record has been so widely received, do you feel like there is an X on your back, so to speak?

Jason: When you receive critical praise, there is always the assumed pressure of living up to the standards of your previous work. I think every artist should try to grow and change, and take a chance with every record or project they undertake. I lose respect for the ones who discover a formula and stick to it. Every great artist has about 3 or 4 records in a row where they hit their stride and are doing something really important.

I want my career to be one where you retrospectively have to take each work into consideration when examining the maturity of an artist living in the present day.

There is that pressure but I don’t really mind it at this stage of my career. It actually is comforting to me that I’m still getting better at what I do, and that I haven’t peaked creatively. I’m doing the best work I’ve ever done.

I write all the time… continuously, so I’ve yet had to worry about not having enough material. I think I wrote about 70 songs last year alone. I’m still in the “hungry” stage. As for the “X” on my back, I honestly don’t mind. I’m happy that there are expectations from me to get better, to push the envelope creatively. I can’t think of anything more enjoyable than accepting the challenge to grow.

4. Explain the name My Cousin the Emperor and how it came about? I’m certain there’s a story here somewhere.

Jason: I had been touring for years as a solo singer-songwriter, and then there was a time when I had a backing-band, but we were still calling it “Jason Reischel”. I was having fun being in a band atmosphere, and I didn’t want the guys to feel like they were just backing me up. I didn’t want to be just “Jason Reischel” when it wasn’t just me on stage. So I started calling us “Jason Reischel & The Strange Bedfellows”, then the running joke was that we started changing names for every gig. We were “The Populists” for a while, until we realized that name was taken.

I had spent a couple of weeks in India on vacation, and when I came back we had a brain-storming session where we came up with about 500 names. None of those names really stuck with me.

I kept remembering all the palaces I had visited in India, and how I spent the night in this one palace that is in the middle of a lake. It was in the James Bond movie “Octopussy”. I was in this ancient palace, staying in the room the emperor stayed in, and I was listening to Johnny Cash on my headphones. There couldn’t have been more of a culture clash, yet it felt totally normal to me. It was one of those moments that makes the earth feel small.

There were all of these stories I read about the Rajasthan Emperors, and their heroic deeds. One day “The Emperors” just jumped out at me, but then I thought it could be a bit more passive because, you know, The Emperor is pretty heavy concept. So we became “My Cousin, The Emperor” where it’s more like “I’m not the guy, but my cousin is…so you better watch out buddy!” I always thought that was pretty funny. Plus, I get to claim to be a part of everyone’s family. Which I think is kind of cool.

5. What is the songwriting structure for My Cousin the Emperor? Do you write the songs? Does the band? How does that work?

Jason: I’m the principal writer in the group. I usually come to every rehearsal with 2 or 3 new songs for us to work on. Like I said, I ‘m still in that phase of my career where I’m hungry and creatively on a roll. So, I write the songs, and demo them. Then we get together and discuss the arrangements and figure out what we can do to make it better. Most of the time the arrangements are complete before I bring them to the band, but there have been quite a few that improved significantly from the band’s input.

I try to arrange the songs the way Duke Ellington would. I want everyone to shine, but to me, the most important thing is the song. As long as the primary concern is in the interest of the song, most things take care of themselves.

6. Ryan Adams and Justin Townes Earle are two of the nation’s top purveyors of alternative country and both live in New York City. Have you reached out to them at all in the hopes of grabbing their ears? Does their placement in New York City help the cause of My Cousin the Emperor at all?

Jason: I used to live in Raleigh when Whiskeytown was coming up. I remember seeing their names everywhere, but sadly I never saw them. I probably lived one mile from Ryan for over 5 years, and never ran into him (even though we had some mutual friends and frequented the same bars). I moved to New York in 2004 and ran into him on the street within the first week. I used to see him around quite often, but since I moved out of the village and to Brooklyn, I don’t really see him anymore.

I also used to run into Steve Earle in the village all the time. I even gave him a copy my first record once. I know Justin Townes Earle manager, but I haven’t met or crossed paths with him yet.

I’m not one to really bother people or seek them out. I would feel strange doing that. I’m not really sure if that really helps further your career, but I really don’t know. Who knows, maybe this interview will bring us all together? I do think we could have a great conversation about the history of music, because I feel we all have reverence for those who came before us, and you can hear it in all of our music.

7. At what point did you realize that making music could (or would) be a commercially viable undertaking?

Jason: I worked in corporate America after graduating from college, and after three years, I knew I couldn’t do it anymore. Post 9/11, I lost my job in the recession. I was still playing guitar and writing songs, and I decided that I wasn’t going to go back to a cubicle, I was going to woodshed, relearn the guitar, and spend the rest of my life playing music. I made that vow to myself. I spent a year and half writing and practicing everyday. Together with playing gigs several times a week, I became a confident performer and much better artist.

I think all of the new songs that I was writing at the time made me realize that this could be a viable commercial undertaking. I was writing and debuting new songs at practically every show, and the response I was getting from people was overwhelmingly positive. I knew I was onto something, but I also knew that I had to pay my dues. Nothing worth working for is ever easy. I didn’t have a problem with that.

I have had many nights when I played to only the bartender, somewhere in Oklahoma, having to leave immediately after the show to drive all night for a gig somewhere in the middle of Kansas. But when I did play in front of people, I felt the connection to the audience and knew I had made the right decision.

Now, I’m finally getting some exposure, which is nice. Everyone wants to know that their hard work is appreciated. It doesn’t matter what field you are in. If you have pride, you do your job, and try to do it the best that you can. Musicians are not any different from anyone else in this regard.

8. What’s your favorite venue to play in New York City and/or Brooklyn? And why?

Jason: I always loved The Bitter End. I love its history. Bob Dylan is a huge influence of mine. He debuted a lot of songs from “Desire “ there. He lived off of Bleecker Street in the 1970s and he would just walk in and ask if he could play a few tunes, jump on stage and introduce the world to a new masterpiece.

Randy Newman recorded his live album there, which I love, Zappa, Woody Allen, Linda Ronstandt, Pete Seeger, Curtis Mayfield. That room has witnessed so much history. As you can tell, I’m a student of history. The Bitter End was my first measuring stick when I moved to NYC and didn’t know a soul, and not a soul knew me, so it is special to me.

There are many cool rooms for the Singer-Songwriting sect in NYC, and I’ve played them all. My favorites would probably be Rockwood Music Hall, The Living Room, and a place called Monkeytown that is no longer around.

9. I’m told you’re going to release a few EPs simultaneously of different genres instead of another full-length. Explain the reasoning behind that, as well as the intent to cover different genres?

Jason: I don’t think people listen to entire albums anymore. You used to have to sit down in front of your record player with the full intent of listening to an entire piece of art. Artists knew this, and they created sequenced records for that purpose. Nowadays, iPods are on shuffle all the time and you have your entire music collection at your fingertips.

I decided to group 5 acoustic songs, and 5 electric songs, and release them as different EPs. On a subway ride in NYC, you can normally listen to 20-25 minutes of music between leaving your home and your final destination. So I wanted to sequence two separate moods, which could change your morning or evening commute. This way you don’t have to commit to listening to the entire record. You could cook dinner to one, or go for a run with the other.

I always wondered on the last record if anyone ever listens up to track 10 or 11 in one sitting. I would suspect probably not, which is a shame because I purposely put the best song as track 10! This time I wanted to make sure that every song was heard. I sincerely believe that singles and EPs are coming back in style and the LP is fading from importance. There are usually one, two, or maybe three good songs on most records nowadays anyway. Too many songs are fillers.

I wanted to showcase our strength in performing different genres. The lead single from our debut record, “A Long Way From Home”, is an alt-country, bluegrass-y influenced, speeding train type of a road song. Which is a great genre in my opinion. But if you listened to the rest of the album, you realized that each song is a painting of its own, with its own colors and its own genre. There’s blues, folk, pop, rock and country. We aren’t really the type of band that has to stick to just one feel.

What genre would you call The Beatles White Album? Every song is different, and that’s something that I’ve always tried to do with all of our recordings. If we’re going to do a specific genre for a certain song, then I want to do it only for that song. I don’t want to keep doing it for the entire record, nor for an entire career.

We got tagged with the “alternative country” label from our first single, and I feel like it doesn’t fully represent what we are trying to do. From a marketing perspective, it makes sense to have something that people can attach to your music, but it bothers me when it limits what you can do at times as well. I have felt some limitation with the “alt-country” tag.

10. Are there any plans to hit the road at all in 2010 or 2011 or are you content to continue gigging in and around New York City and Brooklyn?

Jason: Momentum has been building up steadily in 2009-10. We won the 2009 Independent Music Award for Song of the Year (alt-country), we were named Best Band in Brooklyn 2010 by WNYC Radio. The record keeps getting rave reviews. We have two EPs in the bag, and I already have 75% of the next record in rehearsals. I don’t see how we can stay in Brooklyn. We’re definitely going to hit the road soon, and I may even do a little acoustic tour because I’m starting to miss that too. I expect to be on the road throughout 2011.

Bonus Question
11. Of all the shows you guys have played to date, are there any that stick out? If so, why? If there are a handful, which one remains the most vivid?

Jason: There are a handful, but two stick out in my mind as stepping stones.

The first time we sold out a show was pretty memorable. It was at Monkeytown. The room was very unique because the band was setup in the middle of the room, and the audience was against the walls all around you. I think the room only held 60 or 70 people, but it was incredibly small and intimate, and they were turning people away at the door.

Our album release show at Joe’s Pub in Manhattan is another. It was sold out as well. Each time you move to a bigger room and it sells out it’s memorable. One day, we might be talking about Madision Square Garden and the first time we sold it out.

Note: This interview also appears on AbsolutePunk.

Is the summer heat to blame for such horrific behavior? Is it far simpler than that? Just a few bad apples? Either way, it’s troubling and disturbing and those attending summer festivals should be far more cautious about who they talk to and trust. Sickos are everywhere, horror doesn’t have to be.

Released on April 20, Debbie Miller’s debut full-length Fake Love is a charming and welcome surprise from one of Manhattan’s most criminally underrated singer-songwriters. Equally combining comedy with hopeless romanticism, the disc is a lo-fi, no-frills blend of honesty, personal vignettes and timeless musicianship.

Album opener “Tippy-toe,” carries a Regina Spektor sentiment in its lush, orchestral arrangements. Equal parts cinematic and silly, it’s a quirky lullaby and a pleasant slice of chamber pop. Lyrics such as, “I never run into girls like me, which is good, cause I would beat them up,” offer the silliness that’s rampant on Fake Love.

For example on the jaunty bounce of “F Train,” she talks about a girl wearing high black boots and no stockings in 20-degree weather. The observant yarn is as much a take on shallow twenty-somethings as it is an attempt to find humor in everyday occurrences. That latter part might be the reason why Fake Love feels so effortless. Whereas some artists try so hard to be sublime and cerebral, Miller feels at ease being this quirky, silly girl next door.

The album’s remaining comedic offerings are the hopeful “Lite Brite,” and the pensive “Did You Ever Wonder”,” in which she recounts asking for the children’s toy on her 24th birthday and recounts a childhood spent without Nintentdo and cable TV. Her deprived youth in turn finds her ruminating over a newfound flame and despite some meek verses, the chorus is an absolute delight.

The rest of Fake Love is standard singer-songwriter fare. The rousing “Eclipse,” features airy pianos and sterling production, while the gossamer “Kindly Remove,” is one of the album’s peaks. Bolstered by restraint, focus and a maturity wise beyond her years, the disc is crisp, self-assured and absolutely dynamic.

That sense of intimacy, directness and delicacy is repeated in the stark tapestry of “It’s a Lie,” and the timeless ballad, “I Rise,” and the gooey narrative “Made You,” in which she admits, “I made you kiss me on the corner and everybody saw. Everybody saw.” When she admits, “I fucked up, cause it’s what I do. I can’t show my face cause people expect more from me,” there’s a sense of palpable believability that’s far too hard to ignore.

The fact of the matter is, there’s probably very few singer-songwriters that could make such simple lines stand out and Miller is indeed one of those. There’s something about the realism, the scenes unfolding as the songs are sung, that makes these compositions a dynamic and engaging affair.

So, sure she might be silly and a bit left-of-center, but in the overcrowded melting pot of New York City, Miller is going to need something to stand out from the pack, and Fake Love, is just the album to do it.

Released in paperback on June 22, Jean-Christophe Valtat’s 03 marks the English-language debut of the much-celebrated Parisian writer. His 96-page offering, out now on Farrar, Straus and Giroux; is one long paragraph and documents the inner ruminations of a disaffected French teenager’s attraction to a “slightly retarded,” classmate. Equal parts ornate and consuming, the unnamed teenager feels scorned and unappreciated by his hum-drum life in Montepelurilleux and finds a kinship in the girl almost immediately. Though they never speak or meet, his fascination with her induces daydreams and finds him rattling off lyrics to Joy Division and The Cure, and finding solace in Flowers for Algernon. The narrator’s hyper-literate and dizzying psyche reveals his insecurities, fears, sexual desires and recollections on an awkward and uncomfortable youth. Both precocious and passionate, wistful and wanton, the unnamed narrator has a vitality and candor all his own. When he fusses over the ’smeary stigmata of idiocy,’ or the ‘ineluctable similarities,’ it reads more like Proust and less like a young teen in love. Therein lies the power and potency of Valtat’s richly layered text. One can only hope, Farrar Straus and Giroux releases another English-language translation of his work soon. Talent this good should not go undiscovered.

Equally as talented is rising newcomer Shane Jones, whose debut novel Light Boxes, was released in paperback on May 25 by Penguin. As much a fable as it a taut and psychological narrative, this gnomic and off-kilter war novella details the plight of an unnamed New England town battling to free itself from a brutal February. The month has indeed overstayed its welcome and plagued the town for hundreds of days. A ban against kites and balloons only helps fuel the citizens’ anger. When the local children start to go missing, a defiant resident named Thaddeus Lowe coaxes his wife to join forces with a group of outlaws known as The Solution. Former balloonists, now donning bird masks and top hats, the Solution espouse rebellion and help the townspeople combat the mysteries that surround them. As the novel unravels, February is revealed to be a person, a season and a metaphor. And so it is that Jones’ novel unfurls. Laden with vivid detail, Light Boxes is tender, richly absorbing and undeniably inventive. Potent, piercing and powerful, Light Boxes has all the trappings of a new American classic and to quote author Rivka Galchen is, “the kind of novel that makes you reconsider the word perfect.’