Pitchfork

Over the course of a 10-year career, Jenny Lewis and Blake Sennett have slowly graduated from quirky shoestring recordings, where clunky misfires rubbed against tight hooks and unexpected outbursts. Though their scattered but affecting indie pop has always borne the seeds of promise, their records have never quite lived up to the potential they've hinted at, leaving one to wonder what a stronger focus and better production could do for the band.

Their last disc, 2002's The Execution of All Things, was a major step up from the lo-fi pop and alt-country leanings of their first albums. But as the band moves on to More Adventurous, their first album backed by a major label, you can hear them polish their act: Sennett's vocals are cut entirely, save for one track ("Ripchord"); the funny interludes are yanked; the jolts from urgent pop/rock to campfire singalongs are sunk into the valley of adult-alternative; and while the occasional swear words remain, they're no longer proudly shouted out.

With all this change, More Adventurous places its bets on one thing: Jenny Lewis' voice. As pure as chilled spring water, and as cute and yearning as a hormone-stroked teenager, Lewis' crisp alto shines on every track. From country to new-wave, ballads to throwdowns, she makes the album her showcase, and while the rest of the band-- which includes drummer Jason Boesel and bassist Pierre de Reeder-- does yeoman's work in her service, they all seem to understand that those pipes are what's going to garner real recognition.

Unfortunately, the songs (and especially the lyrics) don't give Lewis the support she deserves. More Adventurous opens with its weakest number, "It's a Hit", whose painfully awful lyrics criticize the President by comparing him to a monkey that throws its own feces. Compared to subtler anti-GOP songs like The Fiery Furnaces' "We Got Back the Plague", it neatly illustrates the gap between satire and pure griping. Elsewhere, the storytelling of the other-woman song "Does He Love You?" is too blunt and lacks poetry. And even though Lewis belts "I Never" like an authentic, blue-collar country diva, the song runs out of words, leaving her to repeat "never" up to 27 times in a row. The song's false ending is also awkwardly executed, as it comes to a total halt, and then pauses long enough before returning that when Sennett's guitar finally comes back blazing, you have to check that it's still the same song.

But even with these weak spots, Rilo Kiley's music has become attractively consistent. They display an increased maturity on the expertly honed and highly accessible acoustic ballads "Absence of God" and "More Adventurous", where Lewis' lilting expressiveness has replaced the sassy accent and almost conversational tone she used to employ. If those are too sedate, "Portions for Foxes" and "Love and War (11/11/46)" all but steal the album: the guitars spike and roar, and Lewis stops worrying about ripping her best dress. Sure, the anything-goes stew on Execution produced better results. But Jenny Lewis has a voice that deserves to swoon in front of a rock band on one track and a string section on the next. And while productions like these tend to underscore the band's weaknesses, they're also taking Rilo Kiley in the right direction.