V Lundon and Tell Me Something Good: Mallory's Missing Camera (Self-Released)

Forgive the comparison: As V Lundon and Tell Me Something Good's Mallory's Missing Camera begins with a swell of Brian Eno-esque ambient organ, echoes of U2's 1987 landmark album of Southwestern obsessive-compulsive disorder, The Joshua Tree, come to mind. Granted, that is the only comparison, which is to say that both albums attempt to translate the expansiveness of the American desert into expansive music.

V Lundon and Tell Me Something Good's new album is a needed cool desert breeze for the Tucson desert-rock/folk scene. Understatement is the operative word. Subtle, ambient vistas of sound such as "At Least," and its echoing piano motifs, help bring these songs to life. Mallory's Missing Camera is full of syncopated and complex rhythms, which propel these songs into visceral territory. Combine that with imaginative, sometimes abrasive (see the feedback-drenched "Passerby Hymn") and vivid confessional lyrics, and this album succeeds on its own merits, conquering any genre classifications, limitations and parameters.

On Mallory's Missing Camera, V Lundon's restrained vocal performance is remarkable; she sounds like she could sing circles around many esteemed artists. But she doesn't, and that is the whole point. The vocals allow the music to inhale, exhale, live and die in panoramic, 3-D dreamy soundscapes.