Underground variety

Flip off the radio presets, boys and girls, and get set to dig a bit; this week we're taking a spin on the indie side with an artist you're not likely to find among the usual crop. Devendra Banhart is an unusual name for an unusual dude, and without a doubt one of the most promising subterranean talents on the scene today. His latest gift to the listening public is "Cripple Crow," an album 23 tracks strong and as diverse as Forrest Gump's proverbial box of chocolates.

Now, Banhart is an anomaly in more ways than one: he has an air of Grizzly Adams, a visible serenity in his eyes and an upper-level education in the creative musical haven that is San Francisco. What else could a fan want? Banhart hit the scene several years ago with various small projects, recording solo and releasing without representation, but it was with his first full-length LP, 2003's "Rejoicing in the Hands," that he truly started making waves.

Never bowing much to convention, Banhart moves in and out of stylistic tropes and languages alike, always with ease and confidence and a very prominent sense of independence. His voice, at times wavering, at other times nasal, can best be described as a mutant trifecta of brilliant vocalists of the past. Try Jeff Buckley meets Lou Reed with a dash of Les Claypool for kicks. Intrigued? You should be.

"Cripple Crow" finds Banhart exploring new and exciting formats in his songwriting. First, I mentioned the multilingual transitions. Five songs out of this set use Spanish, Banhart's native tongue. As a result, the verse represents a rich, flowing and textured addition to Banhart's already curious sound.

The guitar stylings that set the foundation for most of his songs cannot be pigeonholed in terms of a particular school, but modulate freely between a rolling Iron & Wine-reminiscent finger-picking lullaby tactic (see opening track "Now That I Know") to a '60s-era Keith Richards squeal ("Long Haired Child") to a slow and lazy slide ("Queen Bee"). Banhart even flirts with a ukulele-type sound on the graceful "Inaniel."

"Santa Maria Da Fiera" captures some of the album's best work. One of the aforementioned Spanish tracks, it sports a wealth of eclectic instrumentation ranging from some peppy flute work to a constant trill of maracas.

Don't be surprised if you start tapping this one out midway through your next dull lecture. On "Lazy Butterfly," Banhart seems to pick up the torch of oddities left behind by Lou Reed himself. The product could be a signal of the second coming of the Velvet Underground.

Sitting near the album's conclusion are "Koreandogwood" — simply a pleasure to hear, with Banhart's vocals trailing lazily behind a rich piano-inspired backing — and "Little Boys," the album's only real journey into the blues, which sports some definitive doo-wop remnants.

"Cripple Crow" has a little bit of everything, and a lotta bit of one thing in particular: the fresh sound of a guy doing his own thing and loving it. So dig in. Think slow. Find your happy place. Devendra can guide you.