​Basement’s Best Jesso simply swoons on “Goon”

Sometimes even those who know history well are doomed to repeat it.

Considering the recent deluge of albums by the likes of Father John Misty, Natalie Prass and Matthew E. White, it appears that the Nixon-era singer-songwriter heyday is seeing a second life some 40-odd years on.

Sure, it could be a mere coincidence that these records were all released in the span of a month, but upcoming releases by Cali soft-rockers Vetiver and jazz-folk picker Ryley Walker suggest otherwise, and the arrival of Tobias Jesso Jr.’s anxiously-awaited debut “Goon” quashes any remaining doubt.

While fortunate enough to be releasing the album in a musical environment mad for piano ballads, it doesn’t hurt that Jesso has a backstory that would make any publicist giddy.

He trekked back to hometown Vancouver from Los Angeles to care for his mother who’d been diagnosed with cancer, hastily leaving his instruments in storage back in the City of Angels. While caring for his mom, he started plunking away at the family piano, a then-unfamiliar instrument, banging out ditties about his time in Hollywood and (wait for it!) a recent tough breakup.

If it sounds cliché, that’s because it is.

The combination of his obviously raw emotion and admittedly novice ivory-tickling makes for some of the most straightforward songwriting of recent memory. Countering contemporary Father John Misty, Jesso’s lyrics fall more in line with lovesick middle school diary entries, and the Fantasia-level orchestral ornamentation of the aforementioned Prass and White are reduced to standard string sweeps here.

This is not to bash Jesso. He plays these shortcomings to his advantage, letting his childlike melodies and heart-on-sleeve emotion take the fore, avoiding any eloquence that may have obscured them.

A peek at the album’s tracklist is just as evident of his simplistic, familiar leanings, with blasé titles like “How Could You Babe,” “Can’t Stop Thinking About You” and “Can We Still be Friends.”

Jesso’s twee honesty can be heart-melting at times and his saccharine delivery makes his shortest-route writing blissfully excusable.

“Will you forgive me, forget the past? / Or will you let bad words be the last?” he squeals on the trembling Rhodes-led crawl “Bad Words.”

When he audibly clears his throat at the end of the second verse, it’s more indicative of his boyish charm than sloppy editing.

That same charm has launched him from lo-fi schmaltzmeister to puppy-eyed poster boy in the matter of a short year, and along the way, he’s made friends in some high places. Adele and Taylor Swift co-signed his early singles, Danielle Haim makes an appearance behind the kit on standout “Without You,” and a superstar production team with the likes of Black Keys drummer Patrick Carney and Ariel Rechtshaid (Vampire Weekend, Madonna) stands by to twist knobs.

While it may not appeal to those looking for more high-minded fare, “Goon” thoroughly delivers on its sole promise of on-point pop music, sweet and sour.

96.3 KNDS Suggests

“Shatter You Through” – Daughn Gibson

However slight the Venn diagram overlap between ‘80s pop and country music is, Daughn Gibson has staked his claim there. While channeling the driving, pastel sheen of “The Boys of Summer,” Gibson’s rich baritone and scooping guitar accents bring a distinctly Nashvillian grit to the mix.

“Mortal Man” – Kendrick Lamar

Catching the world a week off guard, Lamar’s internet-breaking rap-epic “To Pimp a Butterfly” caps with a jazzy, pensive realization of the artist’s own influence and its consequences, as well as a hallucinatory interview with an eerily revived Tupac Shakur.

“How Can I” – Laura Marling

Marling’s magnificently expressive songwriting continues to stun five albums on. Her Laurel Canyon husk quavers with vulnerable longing, though her sure-wristed strumming suggests that she will, indeed, find a way to live without her former lover.

“That’s Love” – Oddisee

The D.C. rapper spits fire over a gospel-funk strut, celebrating that four-letter word with butterfly-stomached anxiety.

“Should Have Known Better” – Sufjan Stevens

An unmatched conjurer of devastation, Stevens’ return to lonely string-picking is breathtaking and bittersweet.

“Let It Happen” – Tame Impala

Tame Impala mastermind Kevin Parker stretches his synth-heavy psychedelia to its fringes, unwinding a tightly arranged sci-fi suite in (sine) waves.

 “Stranger Still” – Vetiver

Vetiver’s newest effort is road trip-ready upon arrival, which is made clear by a 7-minute opener that’s anchored by an entrancing Autobahn cadence and a Highway 101 nonchalance.

“Silver John” – This is the Kit https://soundcloud.com/brassland/thisisthekit-silverjohn

Delivering her humdrum doubts with a brand of melancholy that only Britain can export, songstress Kate Stables leads her band through a layered and droning ascent.