Woods, a family band.

A couple years ago I listened to the album At Rear House by Woods and really didn’t get into the lo-fi world that they were creating.

Then last year, they were back with a slightly different name (Woods Family Creeps) and a couple wrinkles to their sound, and this time my interest was piqued. Their skewed pop songs were still crusted with fuzz and a back-porch rural quality that imbued them with charm, but the melodies and songwriting was stronger. Now, it’s another year on and they’ve gone back to the name Woods. To my ears, Songs Of Shame takes yet another big step forward and is easily their best work to date. Other than one long ambling track (which still works quite well), the 11 song album is incredibly focused (perhaps due to the group touring most of the songs for months before recording them) and catchy as heck in a ramshackle way.

Again built around the odd, high-pitched vocals of Jeremy Earl (who sounds a little bit like Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse at times) and a varied batch of instrumentation (that ranges from simple acoustic guitar layering to rough-edged basement band jamming), it’s one of those albums that’s a bit sneaky. There are several songs that hit immediately, while others take their time implanting themselves in your subconscious.

One of the former is the 3-minute “The Number,” which is fairly stripped-down as far as the backing music goes. With only a main acoustic guitar melody and some quiet harmonies, it focuses in mostly on the fragile vocals of Earl as he winds through some delightfully evocative words.

“The Number” – Woods

Offsetting this quiet side are numbers like the nearly 10-minute “September with Pete,” which moves with sort of a loose-limbed, moss-coated instrumental forest spaced rock boogie, while “Echo Lake” fuzzes things out even more as some wah-wah guitars and tinny drums all battle in an open-air space (most likely a living room somewhere with thick carpet and the smell of heavy spices in the air).

“Echo Lake” – Woods

One of the reasons the album works so well is this balance between stripped-down, almost introspective songs and others that are a bit more rocking (and in some places goofy and playful, as on “Gypsy Hand”). Clocking in at just over 35 minutes, it’s concise without feeling insubstantial and delivers all kinds of moods without feeling schizophrenic.