James Jackson Toth - 'Waiting In Vain' (Ryko) Released 08/09/08

At first, it’s hard not to feel underwhelmed. Whatever you expected from the ever-productive musician formerly known as Wooden Wand, a set of low-key tunes delivered straight in tasteful alt. country-rock settings probably didn’t trouble the top of that list.

In the half a decade or so since he first emerged atop a warped wave of freeform skronk from his Tennessee base, James Jackson Toth’s name’s become synonymous with hallucinatory weirdness and gloriously sloppy grooves courtesy of his fellow minstrels serving in the gilded court of psychedelically frazzled noodling. Instead, we’re now handed twilit serenades and strutting shitkickers decorated with impeccable flourishes courtesy of guitar hero Nels Cline of Wilco fame, just one of the many guests sprinkling tasty licks over the 12 tracks here. Granted, it sounds sweet, particularly when Toth’s increasingly expressive voice, freshly shorn of more excessively zany mannerisms, wraps itself around Jexie Lynn Toth’s shimmering harmonies. But it doesn’t much resemble the Toth we’ve come to know and appreciate.

Pay closer attention, though, and prepare to be won over. Having treated freak-out fans to countless emissions of freewheeling noise as part of the Vanishing Voice collective, ‘Waiting in Vain’ – Toth’s first release under his own name - unveils the classic rock-digging songwriter that’s been lurking beneath the surface, thus completing the process started on last year’s ‘James & The Quiet’. The transition to pure singer-songwritery proceedings felt a bit tentative and lukewarm in places there, whereas ‘Waiting in Vain’ couldn’t be more focused and competent. Maybe Toth’s new-found confidence in his ability to wow listeners when playing it straight is reflected in his decision to shed his improv-loving alter ego. If so, ‘Waiting in Vain’ is an ideal way to let the mask slip. Approachable, accessible and honed, but not to the extent where the craftsmanship erases all traces of the otherworldly oddness that’s fuelled Toth’s greatest moments to date, it should expand Toth’s fanbase well beyond the cult following he’s enjoyed up to this point.

OK, so a touch of the ramshackle charm that elevated the loose West Coast vibes of 2006’s ‘Second Attention’ into something truly spectacular wouldn’t go amiss amidst the occasionally overly polite performances here. And here’s hoping Toth hasn’t totally turned his back on the hazy mystery of 2005’s downbeat solo debut ‘Harem of the Sundrum’. But then likes of ‘Nothing Hides’, graced by a seriously lovely candlelit groove, the tender last dance-at-the-barn ball sway of ‘Doreen’, ‘Look In On Me’s bluesy Stones-ian gospel stomp, the Dylan-flavoured storytelling of the mini-epic ‘Beulah the Great’ and the sparse ‘Do What You Can’ drift from the speakers, rendering all complaints obsolete. Toth may have scrapped his wizardly pseudonym, but he’s still not short on magic.