The Jealous Girlfriends The Jealous Girlfriends by: Joseph Coscarelli Thu:01-May-08 Label: Good Fences Year: 2008 WB rating 80 out of 100

Oh, to be free of expectations.

New York City quartet The Jealous Girlfriends are not the saviours of rock 'n roll. They are not the buzziest of the buzz bands or the polarizing prepsters who attract and repel in equal numbers. I don't know the backstory of their alcohol addiction or their inter-group romance, and neither do you. Their first full-length self-titled debut is not a collection of obscure, obsessed-over 7" singles and it is not based loosely on the life of a Russian novelist. If someone's death inspired their art, we haven't heard about it. Lou Reed and David Bowie are yet to champion the group and have therefore refrained from adding backup vocals to any track. Thankfully.

Alternately, The Jealous Girlfriends have written an extremely listenable debut record and will release it to initially little fanfare, adulation or backlash, despite having songs featured on hit television shows like The L Word and even Grey's Anatomy. Everything about the group feels earnest and unrehearsed, but not sloppy – just natural. Holly Miranda's voice is smoky, subtle and seductive without being showy, and affecting without sounding tortured. Her range is impressive and her tone inviting and tender; instead of sounding larger than life, she sounds like she is experiencing it.

The record is not a reverie and avoids fantastical ornamentation in favour of realistic grit. They conjure noisy bridges on tracks like the opener, 'Secret Identity', and the epic 'Hieroglyphics' but avoid sounding obtuse or arduous. The sad moments are not histrionic, but strangely hopeful, like the way Miranda coos "Everything will be all right," on the aforementioned opener – an infectious song that hints at both marketability and substance. When her notes soar higher, eventually breaking in a shrill crack, it is not overwrought but just right.

On their eponymous coming out, a follow-up to 2004's eight track Uncomfortably Comfortable, the first four tracks glide seamlessly with ideal sequencing, gracefully introducing aspects of a band that have not been shoved down the throat of a listener before the first notes sound. Instead of through promotional blurbs, you meet co-vocalist Josh Abbott on the album's second track, his first with lead vocal duties, 'How Now.' Buzzing distortion avoids being brash, diluted with smooth layered melody, even through morose lines like "You can bury me with your bullets and your crime." Lyrical non-sequiturs like "Too bad I never liked the taste of oysters," may serve to take the listener out of the moment but are easy to forgive as the song builds to a fierce conclusion.

When male and female vocals combine with electronics on the bright 'The Pink Wig To My Salieri' the results are doubly entrancing, a tinging ride cymbal guiding a wordless chorus of na na na's. Elsewhere, 'Something In the Water' has a tight power-pop drive reminiscent of early New Pornographers, with the comparison especially apt as Miranda's charming and altogether commanding presence might still grow into the magic of a singing siren such as Neko Case. Full, meaty guitars disguise lighter pop sensibilities as the piercing lead that scorches the chorus of 'Gifthorse' attests to, recalling the Smashing Pumpkins or other similarly grungy bands, but as the almost shoegaze-y 'Machines' attests to, the band is pesky to pin down and all the richer for it.

Miranda's angelic murmurs close the album on the sensual 'Carry Me' and while channelling Cat Power's Chan Marshall, she admits her "heart's a mess" without adopting the damaged persona Marshall cultivates, not sounding wounded or even particularly weak. "I have said all I will confess," she continues, but as a listener, all you want is more.