Binders full of women…

…were brought to the second-place finisher in the last presidential race (by his staff and women’s groups), and I’ve been supplied with files full of women’s albums (by the Internet). Large quantity doesn’t have to mean a drop in quality, moreover, and I’m here to share the best of a bumper crop with you, my worthy constituents.

CAITLIN ROSE is wise beyond her (very limited) years. Nashville-based but not so bound, she takes the very best of that city’s past and expands it to encompass West Coast breeziness and Heartland earthiness. Her second full-length, THE STAND-IN, is a mighty achievement.

It helps her cause that she recruited the ace players in indie rock band The Deep Vibration; their chops and sensibilities fully flesh out Rose’s marvelous songs and piercingly intelligent arrangements. But the moneymakers here are her pliable and gorgeous voice, and the words she sings with that instrument.

This is what country radio should be about: songs of love gained and lost, yes, but also tales of hard-won insight, human nature revealed in a flash or at glacier pace, unflinching confessionals and widescreen narratives filled with metaphors and allusions – literary merit without the pretension. Also: songs that soar or slink along, with rhythms punchy or seductive, swathed in guitars of all stripes – steel, slide, single-note or chunky rhythm – and organ or piano comping, and even beds of strings on a couple of cuts.

This one takes effort to quit listening to and move on to something else.

But LADY LAMB THE BEEKEEPER, aka Aly Spaltro, makes that task a lot easier. (And excuse me for a moment – but what is the deal with all these singular persons performing under ‘band names’? You got your Cat Powers and your Iron and Wines and your Phosphorescents ad infinitum and they’re all just basically one person. Those of us of a certain age remember a day when the less-informed would say, “Boy, that Jethro Tull’s got a great voice!” or “”Lynyrd Skynyrd sure can play guitar!” and we’d have so much fun correcting them. Oy.)

Back to Ms. Spaltro, er, Lady Lamb etc. – she’s all of 23 and has a great backstory. She wrote and woodshedded her songs in the basement of Bart’s and Greg’s DVD Explosion (she was a clerk) after she finished her 3-11 shift. She then played all these songs around her Brunswick, Maine hometown until she saved up enough money to book a real studio to record her impressive debut, RIPELY PINE.

First, dispel any notion Lady Lamb is some kind of Lilith Fair chanteuse like her name implies. No, she rocks and wails and stomps, and she’s got a head and heart full of ideas that simply must get out. Sometimes it takes 6-8 minutes and 3-4 tempo and chord progression changes before a song is complete. All kind of instruments are employed, from her scorching guitar to her friends’ horns and cellos (nary a synthesizer, though). The sound is upfront and natural, just like her songs and delivery.

The songs perform the small miracle of seeming utterly inventive and personal while remaining inviting and accessible. Going in expected directions for a while, then veering or careening in totally different ones might sound annoying or exhausting, but there’s no such negativity generated. She’s hot-blooded even when she near-whispers, and when she wails, oh, there’s fire a-plenty.

LADY is actually a duo (of course). Atlanta native Nicole Wray was discovered by Missy Elliott, had a modest solo career, but mainly has been backing up the likes of Kid Cudi and the Black Keys. Terri Walker is from London and has also made it to her 30s without making the big-time. They have gotten together to revel in their obvious love of soul and R&B to make their self-titled debut. Enlisting the production team behind Aloe Blacc’s worldwide hit, “I Need a Dollar”, Truth and Soul, the ladies of Lady just kill on this record.

They don’t follow the Daptone Records approach of employing a time machine to transport the listener back to the mid-60s (not that I don’t lap that stuff up); rather, they make full use of modern recording technology but keep it analog and warm. Likewise, they don’t act like they’re dusting off museum pieces for the amazement of modern ears – they play and sing this stuff like it never lost vitality or juice.

It takes lady balls and moxie to start off an album with the slow swaggering warning shot “Tell the Truth,” but boy, how it works. Right off we see how they’re going to play this – co-equals, sharing the leads, harmonizing or singing in unison. Next comes the pre-released “Money,” which flips the gender roles on gold-digging concerns, and it’s wrapped up in a stuttering triple-timed nonchalance. Other standouts are the stone groover, “I’m Ready,” featuring a bass line so sanctified and nasty that you can sin and get saved in four bars. The girls, er, ladies show how restraint can devastate more than histrionics ever could; “Karma,” a power ballad that deserves the name; “Good Lovin’,” with “Cloud Nine”-era acid-drenched guitar leads and the fastest tempo of the set; “Sweet Lady,” an ode to their mommas – heartfelt, adorable and not the least bit cloying; “If You Wanna Be My Man,” a perfectly-paced totally non-desperate ultimatum (they can definitely deal with a “No” answer.)

This one shows why soul music will never ever go away.

Your attention is also directed to the following most worthy efforts: THAO & THE GET DOWN STAY DOWN’s (what’s in a name?) WE THE COMMON, the best thing this Vietnamese half-octave range singer has ever done, with strong songs and expert production help from the great John Congleton; SAMANTHA CRAIN’s KID FACE, a folk record for the days when spare, unflinching truth is all you need; KACEY MUSGRAVES’ SAME TRAILER, DIFFERENT PARK, the debut of a new artist who actually has a real shot at country radio – deep wisdom in one so young, funny, sad and wistful tales well-told; WAXAHATCHEE, aka Katie Crutchfield, CERULEAN SALT, a punkish slab of darkness that strangely uplifts (cuz the songs are good); ALICE SMITH’s SHE, a head-turning set of experimental yet grounded soul and funk.

Only the surface has been scratched. I could go on. But there’s more files to explore, and Jazz Fest looms and beckons.

– Dave Norman is a local attorney who has been smitten with music since he could hear his first transistor radio turned to WTIX, and is thankful for his ability to share his love with you.

Caitlin Rose, who wrote her first song at 16 years old in place of a high-school paper, brings freshness to country music, writes Gumbo Entertainment Guide critic Dave Norman.

COURTESY PHOTO

“The Stand-In”

“Ripely Pine”

“Lady”