Pitchfork

Chicago three-piece Pit er Pat began as a backing group for a now-departed singer, and when they first lit out on their own they began by writing instrumentals. The band's 2004 EP Emergency found them experimenting with vocals for the first time. Their debut LP, Shakey, solidifies Pit er Pat as a song-oriented unit, with vocals from keyboardist Fay Davis-Jeffers and drummer Butchy "Dell" Fuego. (Just kidding about the Dell, but Butchy Fuego is still a pretty interesting name.)

Pit er Pat are a keyboard/bass/drums trio, but their sound is unusual, with Davis-Jeffers' electric piano lines loping merrily above busy and constantly changing beats from Fuego and bassist Rob Doran. Some of the rhythm work is reminiscent of the Sea & Cake's jazzier moments, but the songs belong to a different tradition, incorporating elements of Eastern European folk songs, cabaret, and vaguely progressive rock. It's a hurdy-gurdy sound with heavy instrumental chops, nimbly moving through the tunes' mini-sections with accompanying shifts tempo and meter.

Bassist Doran has the sort of flat and untrained indie male voice that, while working decently with the songs, is hard to get excited about. But Davis-Jeffers' airy singing, while no more technically accomplished, sounds relaxed and natural, popping out from the complicated instrumental background. Her tracks are the easy standouts. "Scared Sorry" it a twitchy uptempo rumba as Davis-Jeffers cranks up a quasi-Quasi Rocksichord keyboard distortion and tells a tale of a descent into madness ("I'm sorry Wendy, we didn't know how to help you/ I hope that the things you see are beautiful and make you laugh") from a chilly remove. "Cake Peg" is a fractured take on carnival music with lyrics-- something about a royal dance performance atop a desert confection-- that sound nicked from a Calvino short.

Shakey is an odd record and each listen feels virgin, as the band's riffs and melodic flourishes drift past without sticking. At its best the album is agreeably hard to peg, a quirky amalgamation of styles that sounds like little else. But the between-the-cracks nature of the record can work against it, as it remains, even after a half-dozen spins, remarkably resistant to absorption.