Mark Eitzel of American Music Club (lala) knows how to do anthem rock that does not leave you feeling unclean afterwards - see "Rise." He can also do devastating that leaves you broken down to base pieces, yet somehow hopeful - see "Chanel #5." He knows how to do non-anachronistic bar-band psuedo-country that sounds genius - see "The Right Thing." Lost of people can do spooky acoustic, but the good ones are copying him - see "Crabwalk (Acoustic)."
Robyn Hitchcock (lala) knows how to do singer-songwriter with nary a twinge of the cringiness that ruins it for even the best of singers and songwriters. Perhaps since his songs are semi-absurd already, he is freed from the impulse for over-seriousness, that any seriousness he brings into the mix only tightens the coupling between thought and expression, that place where Lou Reed says there is a lifetime.
Richard Buckner (lala) knows how to do the same thing with singer-songwriterness, except he comes at it from the other side - songs of crushing heaviness and suffocating sentimentatlity and remorse, sweetened and strained by his airtight control of his music.
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