Quick, Before It Melts.

I've been aware of Jim Noir on the periphery of my musical universe for a while now, mostly by way of a couple tracks from his 2005 debut album, Tower of Love. "Key of C" and "EanieMeany" made their way unto my iPod via one of the many music blogs I frequented at the time, and they stood out from the other tracks thanks to the lo-fi love which seemed to spawn them from the mating of Beach Boys harmonies to late 90's kook-rockers like Beta Band or Super Furry Animals. Digging around, I found out that Jim Noir is actually Alan Roberts, a native of the suburbs of Manchester, England, where he crafted his debut album in the solitude of his parent's house. Roberts plays everything on record himself, and uses a band for performing live.

Jim Noir is currently supporting a lovely follow-up sophomore album, imaginatively titled Jim Noir. He's back in familiar territory sonically, but, according to an interview he gave Under The Radar magazine earlier this year, he's taken a bold step beyond your ordinary pop album and crafted this one around the concept of an astronaut about to blast into space, never to return. Noir says that, "I don't write lyrics down or anything. When I have to do them, I just sit there with the mic and see what I like. Generally, there are no concise ideas. It's all a free flow."

He's free flowed right out of his parent's house and into a studio/flat in Manchester, where he crafts his twisted, tender pop symphonies. He's been criticized for being too pop by some, but it all just rolls off his shoulders. As he sees it, the art of perfecting the pop song isn't an easy thing to master, but he's willing to go to the ends of the universe while trying. I wouldn't mind going along for the ride while he does.