Pitchfork

Chances are, Calexico is a lot more interesting than the town you grew up in. Oh, sure, your town had that kid who painted "Zool" on every stop sign in town and evenings of cow-tipping adventure, but few American towns have as fractious a history as this California burg situated just inside the US, across the dotted line from Mexicali. The two towns were once one, with residents passing freely from one nation to the other to work, socialize and shop-- the picture of peaceful neighbors. But times change.

As state and federal bureaucrats began to view Mexican immigration as a national problem, the border between Calexico and Mexicali was closed ever tighter. Jobs were lost, relationships were severed, and the way of life once enjoyed by locals was irrevocably changed. Calexico remained small and retained a high standard of living, while Mexicali's population exploded and sank into poverty.

Joey Burns and John Convertino make exactly the kind of music you'd expect a duo that took their name from an embattled desert town to make. It conjures images of sand-blasted fence posts, cattle skulls, and wind-blown expanses of rock and sand, and draws nearly as much from Mexican musical traditions as it does from American indie rock. In addition to other side work, Burns and Convertino have laid down the rhythmic backbone for Doug McCombs' Brokeback project, collaborated with the Amor Belhom Duo as ABBC, and are veterans of desert rock outfits Giant Sand and Friends of Dean Martinez. Their diverse past shows in their firm grasp of disparate styles.

Even My Sure Things Fall Through is an eight-song EP drawn from various European b-sides, but it feels a lot more substantial than your typical tide-me-over compilation. Two of these tracks appeared in different incarnations on last year's excellent Hot Rail album-- "Sonic Wind" and "Untitled III." "Sonic Wind" is presented here as an instrumental, refurbished with Jacob Valenzuela's clarion trumpet lines. Two Lone Swordsmen have their way with the interlude "Untitled III," removing the accordion from the mix and filtering the acoustic bass for a vacuum-packed effect. And the slow hip-hop beat, erratic maraca, and digital squelches that enter later never remove the track from its dusty setting.

Joey Burns, whose warm singing voice just keeps improving with experience, directly addresses the plight of the band's namesake town on "Crystal Frontier," which shows up here in two versions. The "Widescreen Version" features full mariachi accompaniment and is easily one of the best songs Calexico have recorded. Its video-- one of three included on the CD-- features footage of poverty-stricken Mexicali and signs announcing the last U-turn before Mexico to complement the song's story of failed immigration attempts and deportations. The acoustic version that appears later is Burns by himself, giving a haunting rendition that's as essential as the original.

Calexico's burned-out take on Mark Eitzel's "Chanel No. 5," feels appropriately exhausted to handle Eitzel's aching tale of longing. When Tim Gallagher's steel guitar intones, it's enough to make the hardiest cowhand cry just a little in his beer. "Banderilla" kicks off with a mariachi outfit sucked into a black hole before sliding into a subdued groove. Burns' confident bassline propels it nicely, but it's one of the few moments that feels too familiar. Calexico have been here before, on the almost identical "El Picador," from Hot Rail. "Crooked Road and the Briar" salvages things quickly, though, with gritty, meaty desert rock.

The record winds to a close with the seven-minute "Hard Hat," a softly swelling soundscape littered with dying AM radio transmissions. An extension of Calexico's ambient experiments with ABBC, "Hard Hat" crawls in from oblivion, the aural equivalent of a wasted ghost town. The swelling drones and shifting textures recall the best moments of Angus MacLaurin's Glass Music or a young Pink Floyd's quieter ambient experiments.

Burns and Convertino have rapidly crafted what began as a side project into one of the best bands on the American indie rock landscape. Even My Sure Things Fall Through displays a band with an amazing range of capabilities and a veritable stylistic grab bag to draw from. At 37 minutes, it's a hefty listen for an EP, and with the added value of three great videos in the enhanced portion, it's hard to say no. Anyone interested in the Southwestern sound would do well to check this out.