It's no accident that Jim White is on David Byrne's Luaka Bop label. His odd, oblique tales from Pensacola, Fla. and beyond wouldn't be out of place in Byrne's quirky movie of smalltown Texas, . In fact, White has his own new film, , to capture his chosen milieu of motel rooms, truck stops, and churches, and--as described on "If Jesus Drove a Motor Home"--waffle houses: "Jesus eating eggs with ya'll." Not that the artist needs visuals to project his skewed vision: is dense with dreamy, wasted scenarios, each spilling into the other. His vocals, which rarely rise above a half-whisper, are those of a loser at love cursed by self-knowledge ("You can't waste the whole damn day loving what you need to cast away") and a winner at ennui who spends his drifting hours "listening to the song behind everything I think I know" and finding only static. The album, his third, is treated to offbeat textural touches that reflect the edgy ambient approach of his co-producer, Joe Henry--electronic washes, horn charts, banjo, bebop trumpet. A colorful character whose real-life exploits include stints as a professional surfer and Milan fashion model--and struggles with drugs and religion--White is supported by an expansive cast including fellow tortured Southerner Mary Gauthier, Aimee Mann, Barenaked Ladies, and guitarist Bill Frisell.

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Drill a Hole in That Substrate and Tell Me. - CD

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