As the story goes, Delta Spirit's Matt Vasquez was
first discovered by his bandmates at a San Diego light-rail station, busking
furiously to a spare late-night crowd. The gravel-throated singer wasn't exactly
hard up at the time—he was taking a break from his parents' beachy O.C.
digs—but that shouldn't count against him or his band. It actually goes a
long way toward explaining Delta's unhinged, free-flowing, bluesy spirit. Ode
To Sunshine
is brimming with gritty, staggering soul that floods the gap between the
Stones' R&B-inflected; early oeuvre and Cold War Kids' world-weary keening.
That said, Ode
is impressively measured, and neither the rollicking shambolics of "Trashcan"
nor the slow, whiskey-seeping grind of "Parade" would be half as effective
without a certain tautness. Texture is paramount too, as the shimmering banjo
of "People, Turn Around" and the unfussy horns on "Bleeding Bells" attest. It
all gives Vasquez's voice a wide berth as it oscillates between Jeremy
Enigk-worthy highs and quavering Marc Bolan-esque lows, expounding on some
heavy themes (drug abuse, sexual slavery, Vasquez's mother deserting her
family) with surprising lightness. In "People C'Mon," Vasquez bids his "soul-searchin'
people" to join him in whatever quest brought him to that train station in the
first place. If his goal is to coax the sun out by song, he should have no
shortage of voices backing him.