Local releases: Ghost Shirt, Eric Nassau, Pocketful of Sunshine

Ghost Shirt EP
Ghost Shirt has been around only since September, but the band has already caused quite a stir, playing shows as much as humanly possible (especially at the Treehouse) and handing out a 10-song demo that felt like much more than a demo.

Led by the golden-voiced Branden Barnett (formerly of the Shatters), Ghost Shirt uses killer hooks, guy-girl harmonies, beautiful string arrangements and some good ol’ distorted guitar to craft songs that veer from chamber-pop to power pop. And the band’s captivating stage show brings to mind other local acts like Two Cow Garage (a band Ghost Shirt recently toured with) and Miranda Sound (R.I.P.).

Their new EP, which serves as the preview of an upcoming full-length, mostly captures all that good stuff. I say “mostly” because in trading in demo quality for a more professionally mixed, crisp recording, a couple of the songs lose some of the raw vigor that the demo captured in their more spontaneous state. At times, the EP feels almost too slick. I also look forward to hearing what the band does with Barnett’s gentler, acoustic tunes.

But those are minor, contextual quibbles. “Steam Engine” still feels plenty propulsive, Sam Kim’s violin melodies sparkle (especially on the “Sick with Love” outro), and the rhythm section does everything a rhythm section should. Be warned: If you pick up this EP, you’ll have no choice but to get the full album when it comes out.

Eric Nassau - What's Left of Empty Space
Eric Nassau is a quintessential troubadour, playing pubs, coffee shops and folk festivals across the country armed with his van and an acoustic guitar. In fact, he’ll be on the road pretty much nonstop before returning to Columbus for Comfest at the end of June.

But if Steve Earle is the “hardcore troubadour,” Nassau is decidedly soft. On his latest, What’s Left of Empty Space, you’ll hear lots of traditional folk with some contemporary singer/songwriter flair and country fare thrown in. His candid, conversational lyrics are endearing and instantly accessible but often lack depth and anything resembling grit (from “Sugar-coated Sugar”: “When I was a child, they said I was hyper/Till they pinned me down, found sugar in my diaper”). Nassau sings it all with full-bodied, yet nondescript, vocals. This is acoustic music as smooth and breezy as it gets.

He enlisted plenty of help on Empty Space, though, and those contributions allow some of these songs (mostly in the first half) to become more than just pleasant background music. Megan Palmer’s violin and vocals fill out “Big Water,” which clips along at a good pace and features one of Nassau’s best choruses. Palmer likewise bolsters “Frozen,” featuring mournful, nontraditional accompaniments that give the song a welcome eeriness. I’m also partial to Keenan Wade’s mandolin additions, which are sprinkled throughout, as well as the rockier, minor-key guitar riffs on “A Conversation.”

Turns out truly empty space doesn’t suit Nassau best. The more musicians the merrier, I say.

Pocketful of Sunshine - Target Audience of One
Drummer Paul Abbott (Woosley Band) dubbed his recent recording Target Audience of One to emphasize that all the songs center on the heartache caused by one woman in particular. But what a shame it would be if this spurned lover were the only recipient of these well-crafted songs, boasting a list of contributors that reads like a Rolodex of Columbus songwriting greats, past and present: Tim Easton, Micah Schnabel (Two Cow Garage), Megan Palmer, Lizard McGee (Earwig), Sean Beal (Big Back Forty) and Chris Burney (formerly of the Sun).

Under the moniker Pocketful of Sunshine, Abbott wrangled each of these musicians into his home studio to collaborate on a track, and the resulting stacked-with-talent album delivers with only a couple of slight missteps. Personal favorites include Schnabel’s cig-fueled, acoustic-driven “Ultimate Mixtape” and Jesse Henry’s alt-country gem “Get With You,” lovingly steeped in lap-steel. And McGee’s “My Favorite Star” could be the lead single on a new Earwig album; it’s one of the catchiest tracks I’ve heard all year. Not surprisingly, the record also boasts really good drum sounds—a detail that often gets lost in local bands’ mixes.

The gimmicky “Slowicide,” featuring Zuck’s Turkey Farm, isn’t really my bag. Neither is the final track, “Pretty Birdy (the Ballad of Shadow Cat).” But I don’t think I’d skip any other song, which is pretty amazing given the stylistic breadth and sheer number of musicians involved with the project--a testament to Abbott’s well-trained ear.

Here’s to shattered relationships!

(Also at The Other Paper)